Red and Impossible
by Kyda-Larkan
Summary: Lydia Martin. Banshee. Beacon Hills not so sweet sweetheart. Genius. Painfully human. Her life kicking off from the end of smoke and mirrors. Rated M for possible future scenes. A little something to get me, and anyone else who enjoys this, through the hiatus.
1. The End Of Another

Hello Darlings! My name is Kara, and in order to survive this next several months without Teen Wolf, I've decided to write out my dream version of season five (more or less). Everything follows canon till the very end of season four, however this picks up near the end of Smoke and Mirrors with some off screen moments I guess you could say. I will also add a few flashbacks of other headcanoned moments, off screen moments what have you as we go along, and to give some characters more depth. So, yes, as this is following canon, Scira and Stalia will be featured, as well as whatever Derek and Braeden are called. This is going to be mostly Lydia centric, with Marrish developing. So if you don't like those ships (not that the fic is going to be ship centric, it's not, I pinky {but I mean ppls relationships are important so they will be featured but so will friendships like expect a girls night between Lydia, Kira and Malia YOU BEST PREPARE YOURSELVES FOR SOME GIRL TIME OKAY} this is mostly going to be about my red haired angel banshee Lydia Martin) please just don't read it. And if you do, please keep any not so nice comments to yourselves. I'm writing this fic for myself, and for anyone else who would enjoy reading it. If you don't ship those ships, THAT'S AWESOME. Your awesome. Your ships are awesome. But so are my ships. So please keep that in mind when reading and reviewing.

I will be posting new chapters every Thursday, Friday or Saturday, depending on how busy I am or how impatient I am to posties. This might kick off a little slow but I promise I have big plans (also Marrish is going to be slow going bc hello he's an officer she's a minor she's going to need to be legal and them to have some major relationship development before anything remotely romantic happens ily all). Large plans. With feels and angst and action and drama and possibly death.

Also just a little acknowledgement that I do not own Teen Wolf, all of the canon characters and events belong to Jeff Davis and the writer's of the show.

Happy reading!

The amount of relief Lydia had felt when, for once, all of them were to be coming home intact, couldn't be compared to anything but pure bliss. Of course she was sure they would all be slightly worse for wear, but no fatal wounds had been reported. No one was going to need rushed to Deaton's exam table with some new form of wolfsbane wreaking havoc on their body, or to the hospital where Mrs. McCall would have to jump through hoops to get them treated without anyone finding out the big secret.

She had been nervous though, irrationally nervous. Not quite believing Stiles when he called to tell her everyone was okay. She knew they were okay. She had known immediately when the imminent threat had passed. A great weight had lifted from her shoulders when Derek had somehow become perfectly healthy again. While she had some theories, she still hadn't been told exactly what happened to him, and planned to make Derek explain sooner rather than later.

Her young heart was practically throbbing as they all pulled up to Deaton's office, where she and the veterinarian were waiting outside. He didn't seem entirely convinced either, his eyes sharp as if waiting to assess any potential wounds. As they all stepped out into the parking lot, Lydia did a headcount.

Everyone except for Mr. Argent. Her last connection to Allison. She immediately turned a pair of accusatory eyes to Stiles, terror welling in her chest. Scott knew before Stiles could figure out what he had done wrong, and stepped forward, holding up his hands to stop her before she could start yelling.

"No-no-no, Lydia, he stayed in Mexico. To find Kate. He's.. He's mostly okay. He'll be okay.." Lydia wanted more information, and opened her mouth to demand it. She was stopped by Deaton, who placed a hand on her shoulder. After giving him a confused look, she looked back to the back. It was then she noticed just how tired and worn out they looked. Her eyes did an inventory of injuries, or in most cases where the injuries should have been, scanning over each of them.

Kira seemed the worst off. While she didn't have any visible wounds, her clothes were torn and bloodied, as well as some of her hair being matted down. She also appeared to be the most tired, which could have been because she wasn't as used to this sort of thing as the rest of the pack. However, judging from the pained, guilty expression Scott had whenever he looked at her, Lydia could tell there was more to it than that. Whatever had happened, Lydia knew it would be a good while before he stopped looking at her like that, before he stopped blaming himself for whatever had happened.

Malia didn't seem horribly affected by everything that had happened with Peter, judging by the fact that she was back to be abnormally attached to Stiles. Something that, despite how much she actually liked Malia, had bothered her at first. It hadn't been a huge annoyance, just a slight tug on her metaphorical heartstrings every time Stiles gave Malia that overly-adoring look. She had never really had any real intentions of pursuing anything with Stiles, but there was no denying they had something after everything they had been through. Now, watching the how happy he was with someone who's weird fit eerily well with his, she felt a different sort of tug.

As did seeing their resident sour wolf looking healthy again, and a little less sour. Which could be attributed largely to the scarred woman standing next to him, gun slung over her shoulder. Lydia felt indebted to Braeden, who had helped Derek stay alive without his werewolf abilities. Also for showing him more human affection than he'd had in probably years. How many years would probably be an unknown fact for the rest of eternity, as he wasn't keen in letting on the secrets of how werewolves aged.

Lastly, her eyes fell on Deputy Parrish. He was standing off to the side, alone and somewhat out of place. Besides being mildly sunburned and covered in as much desert sand as everyone else, he seemed generally untouched. _Good, _she thought, _at least one of you knows how to stay out of harm's way._

Letting out a resigned sigh, she stepped to the side, allowing them to file in to Deaton's office. The vet ushered them to the back room. While they didn't hold any visible lasting injuries, he was insistent on checking them all over anyway to avoid any surprises. Except for Parrish, who promised he hadn't come close to getting injured, and who now stood by the door, staring out into the mostly empty parking lot. Lydia, being the only other one remaining in the waiting area, found herself moving to join him.

"You can stop watching now, you know."

He didn't seem exactly startled, but obviously hadn't noticed her approach. He was distracted, that much was obvious. "Hm?"

"We should be safe now, or at least as safe as we can be, for a little while. It feels like we might get a little peace. You should enjoy it while it lasts."

He shook his head, turning to look at her. "It's not…" His voice trailed off before he had even really started, green eyes focusing on something above her own. "Are you hurt?"

Lydia's eyebrows knit together in confusion as she lifted a hand to her forehead, bony fingers finding a small cut near her hairline. "Oh. The Sheriff.. He blew up the Berserker meant to keep me in Beacon Hills. I guess I didn't come out quite unscathed." Noting his still worried expression, she gave a half-hearted smile. "No worries. What were you saying?"

Her chance to gain a little insight on the Deputy had passed, however, and he shook his head. "I should get back to the station. I have a lot of paperwork to do on… All the things that haven't happen. Call me, if you need anything." He stared at her, his piercing green eyes conveying his sincerity, until she gave a nod of acknowledgement. He paused for just one moment after departing the vet's office, reaching up to give her arm a little squeeze. And then he was gone.

Lydia watched him walk away, turning just in time to miss his glance back, the pause in his step as he looked at her one last time.

Her attention turned to Derek as he emerged from the back. His visit with Deaton had been relatively short, and he was apparently the first one who'd been looked at. It wasn't any surprise to Lydia, Derek's life was no longer in any immediate danger, at least no more than the rest of them. She crossed her arms over her chest, fixing him with a classic Lydia Martin glare. "Did it ever occur to you to tell me that you weren't actually dying?"

The man sighed, shaking his head. "That would have required me knowing I wasn't actually dying. And I was, technically. And I think there's a chance that I could have. I didn't know until it was happening."

"Until what was happening?" The pair turned to Stiles as he entered the lobby, rubbing his eyes so much Lydia was worried he would manage to hurt himself.

"I don't know. Not for sure. Not all of it anyway. But my mother.. She could transform into a black wolf, so the same thing might have happened to her."

The three of them stood there, Stiles and Lydia fixated on Derek as they waited for him to elaborate. When it became obvious he was going to do nothing of the sort, Stiles slumped down into one of the metal chairs. "I could sleep for days, dude."

"We have practice tomorrow," Liam reminded as she shuffled out from the exam room, his voice barely audible as he collapsed a few seats down from Stiles.

They had both reminded Lydia of the fact that she should really, really be asleep right now. Or more importantly, that she should at least be tired. It was nearing dawn, and while she hadn't driven to Mexico and back like the rest of them, she had been awake just as long. Which was what, 36 hours by now? Forty? But she didn't feel the least bit tired, although the bags under her eyes told a different story. There was still so much she needed to do, too many questions left unanswered.

What had happened to Derek? How on earth had Meredith managed to pull all those strings? Did she have help? Who was Malia's mother? What was Parrish?

What was Parrish. That was something that could be worked on tonight, that wouldn't require too much energy. Reading was second nature to Lydia, she could absorb any book in just a matter of hours, depending on the thickness. And while the Bestiary was fairly large, she was confident she could tackle it that night. Or rather, that morning.

"I'm going to go. Home. To.. get some sleep."

Stiles and Derek both gave her doubtful looks, whereas Liam just snored in acknowledgment.

"Let someone drive you-"

Lydia held up a hand to stop Stiles. "You've all just driven to Mexico and back. I think I'd be better off driving myself." At his slightly wounded expression, she added; "Thank you, Stiles. Keep me updated, and tell the rest I said goodbye." He nodded, knowing better than to argue with her.

As she walked to her car, she realized that for once Parrish hadn't offered her a ride home. It worried her, wondering just how distracted the Deputy was.

She managed to make it home without running too many stop signs, and up to her room without waking her mother. She grabbed the book copy of the Bestiary, settling into her bed to begin the search.

Only to awaken three hours later to the boise of her mother's soft knocks, accompanied by the constant vibrations of her phone letting her know she had several missed calls.

"Sweetheart? Lydia, you were late to school. While that's not exactly.. Unusual, these days, none of your friends could get ahold of you. I was worried…" Worried? Her mother? Perhaps Mrs. Martin hadn't been quite as oblivious to everything her daughter had been up to as she thought. A few more tired blinks reminded Lydia that her mother was a teacher. And should be at school. And if she wasn't.. She had left work to check on her.

"I'm, uhm.. I have a headache, actually. I.." She looked down at herself, fully dressed and laying on top of the covers. Her mother would never buy it if she saw her like this, having been caught too many times, usually still drunk. "I.. I typed up a text you. I must not have hit send. I'm sorry mom, you should go back to work." Her mother was silent, and Lydia knew she had been too sweet. Adding an edge of annoyance to her voice, which almost physically pained her, she added; "Seriously, mom. I'm almost eighteen, I can handle a day home alone."

"Well.. Alright. Call me if you need anything."

Relief flooded Lydia's chest, as did guilt. She'd gotten over the whole typical-teen-who-can't-stand-her-parents phase some time ago.

Back when she had been in the dark about all the supernatural hudu of Beacon Hills, Lydia had envied Allison. Her parents had seemed so normal, like real parents. They were a little strict, and her mother could be mildly terrifying, but they really cared. And they loved each other. That much had been obvious. They hadn't been those awkward, overly PDA-ing parents. But you could see it, through their little looks and familiar touches. Lydia had envied Allison growing up with parents who could actually be in the same room together.

And then Mrs. Argent shot herself because she'd been bitten by an Alpha, and Lydia held her best friend as she broke into a million little pieces.

Lydia had begun to appreciate the little things her mother did for her. Not that she acted like it. If her mother got the slightest inkling she had the opportunity to become closer to her daughter, she'd want to spend more time together. Time Lydia didn't have. Lydia also knew it was probably better that way, safer for her mother.

With a resigned sigh, Lydia launched herself out of bed. Her mind still had that sort of untired buzzing feeling that came with being totally exhausted but unable to sleep, fueling her to keep moving, keep doing. She had moved straight to the door, her brain already churning out an endless list of things she needed to do. Just as the knob turned in her hand, Lydia caught sight of herself in the vanity mirror.

What little make up she'd had on was smudged under her eyes from sleep, making her look ripe and ready to work in a haunted house. She had lost a bit of weight recently, mostly in her face, and it gave her eyes a sort of hollow look. Due to stress and a lack of sleep, she imagined. Also probably associated with her lovely knew habit of forgetting to eat regularly. Another thing she needed to work on. But first, she turned the knob back until the door latch clicked in place.


	2. Whispers Among Gravestones

**I totally lied about waiting a week to post the next chapter, I became way too impatient and also the first one was a little slow so I wanted to give ya'll something better. A little friendly Marrish in this one, as well as some weird bonding and Lydia/Kira feels.**

Lydia felt and looked undoubtedly better after a lengthy shower, although her lack of sleep still presented itself on her features. The bags under her eyes were more prominent, despite her little nap, due to the remnants of her make up having been washed off. Her hands shook, just a slight quivering, but enough that she worried someone might notice.

Despite all that, she forgoed her usual routine of hair and makeup, leaving with her hair still damp, Bestiary in hand. As she slid into the driver's seat of her car, she made a silent decision to make just one stop before going to the Sheriff's station.

While Lydia had never formally asked Kira for her address, the know-it-all liked to do just that, know it all. And she had her ways of course.

Pulling up in front of the Yukimura household, she let out a breath she didn't know she was holding when only Kira's mother's car sat in the driveway. One parent was easier to tackle than two, especially parents as protective as Kira's.

Lydia had barely finished knocking when the front door was opened by the elder Kistune, not the one the redhead had come to see. Ignoring formalities, she blurted out; "Is Kira home?"

Mrs. Yukimura raised one of her quizzical brows, but opened the door further to allow Lydia entry. "No.. She is at school. Where I imagine you are supposed to be, Lydia. What has brought you here?"

Giving the woman a guilty look, she stepped inside. "I.. Overslept. I thought Kira might be home, because, well.. She looked a little- I just wanted to check on her."

"That is very kind of you Lydia. I hope you don't take offense in my saying, but I was not aware the two of you were so close."

That caused Lydia to pause. When had Kira become one of the first people she checked on? Since Allison, that had generally been Scott or Stiles. Her friendship with Kira was complicated, because every time she felt herself get closer to young kitsune, she felt irrationally guilty. She could never replace Allison, not with anyone, and that was obviously not her intention. But it felt like betraying her. It was hard not to like Kira, though. Despite the notorious reputation of the fox, she was a loyal and trustworthy person. "Neither was I."

Mrs. Yukimura didn't seem at all bothered by her response, giving an unexpected and warm smile. Her keen eyes, however, followed Lydia's shaking hand as it moved to tuck a bit of hair behind her ear. "Would you like something to eat, Lydia? I was about to make myself an early lunch."

"Oh, that's fine Mrs. Yukimura, you don't have to-"

"I know I don't. But I wouldn't mind the company, honestly. It can be a little lonely when Kira and her father both run off to school together. And I generally go by Noshiko."

"Thank you."

Several hours later, Lydia was still at the Yukimura's, only now seated on a stool at their fairly large breakfast bar. The ofference of food had been extended into a full on cooking lesson, Lydia's first. They had long since finished with their meal, however, the conversation kept flowing. Noshiko had asked her many questions about her family, her life, and how she had discovered she was a banshee. Lydia had been surprised by her friendliness, and guessed her aversion to other supernaturals was mainly targeted at werewolves. It was surprisingly easy for Lydia to open up to her, far easier than it was to talk to her own mother. Probably because she didn't have to hide anything. Recently, Lydia had turned the conversation around, her eagerness to learn fueling her curiosity.

"You know, in all my years I have only ever met two other wailing women."

Lydia grew quiet at that. Noshiko had seemed to know the question she wanted to ask the most before she'd even had the chance to. "What were they like?"

Noshiko smiled, rotating her mug between her palms. "I didn't know either of them particularly well, the second less than the first." Lydia stilled, hanging on her every word. "The first I met a long, long time ago. Long before even Oak Creek. She was a young girl, younger than yourself. So full of life, she was. Always happy, always willing to help anyone who needed it. Her light faded somewhat, however, after her first scream. From what I understand it hit rather close to home." Lydia pursed her lips, knowing a thing or two about screams hitting close to home. "The second was an older woman. She didn't really know what she was, just that she was.. Something."

Her brown eyes widened. Stiles had said something eerily similar about Lydia, before the Durach had given her a name for what she was.

She was about to ask Noshiko more about the second woman, when they both turned to the sound of the front door opening. "Mom?"

"In here, Kira. You have a visitor."

Lydia smiled as Kira rounded the corner. "Lydia! I thought that was your car. Are you okay? Is everything okay?" Keen eyes, just like her mother's, darted nervously between the pair seated at the breakfast bar. Lydia, felt as though she had been punched in the gut, and her smile faltered. It came with being a harbinger of death, no one was overly pleased to see you.

"I just wanted to see how you were doing. We didn't get to talk much last.. The last time I saw you." She glanced nervously at Noshiko, not knowing how well informed her mother was of recent events.

Kira smiled, obviously relieved. "I'm.." Her gaze followed Lydia's. "Okay."

Taking the hint, Noshiko stood. "I'll leave you two girls to talk." Pausing on her way out of the kitchen to plant a small kiss on Kira's forehead, she looked back to Lydia. "It was lovely speaking with you."

"You too. Thank you for lunch!"

Kira looked understandably confused as her mother walked out. "Lunch?"

Lydia gave her a moderately guilty smile. "I've been here a while. Your mom is pretty great, actually."

Kira shrugged, looking mildly uncomfortable. "It's been kind of difficult, since everything came out. I mean, I don't hate her or anything, she's still my mom. I felt like.. Like they were completely different people. Different parents than the ones I had grown up with. But, I mean, it's gotten better. It's just weird, you know? Kitsunes, werewolves, banshees.."

_And whatever the hell Parrish is._

"So, about Mexico.. Is there anything you need to talk about?"

Kira bit her lip, a hand moving to rest in the pocket of her jeans. "Like what?"

"Oh I don't know, anything that might have happened while Scott was transformed into a skeleton wearing, crazy, killing machine?" Kira looked down, seeming unwilling to talk about whatever had happened. "_Kira._" She looked up. "You can talk to me. About anything."

".. Kate made him.. She wanted to test his loyalty, or her hold over him or whatever. She made him.."

As her friend was obviously unable to say it out loud, Lydia took the liberty of assuming Kira had taken a beating at the hands of their resident golden boy. "You know it wasn't really him, right? Scott would never hurt you. Not any of us."

"I know, I know. I'm not mad at him, or afraid.. He's taking it pretty hard though. Like every time he looks at me it's like he's going to be sick. With Liam too, he almost strangled him. I'm just worried.. Things won't be the same anymore."

"He'll need time. Scott always needs time, he's not great at getting over things. And if he hurt you guys, it'll take a little extra. Just be there. Know he can talk to you. Don't tiptoe around him, or he will think you're afraid. You will be fine, Kira. I promise." Lydia wondered if she would feel guilty comforting Kira about Scott if things had been different with him and Allison when she.. Lydia wondered if she should feel guilty. But really, she knew this is what Allison would want. She'd be here, doing it herself, doing her very best to keep them together because Kira made Scott happy. And that's what Allison always wanted, the people she loved to be happy.

"Thank you, Lydia. It's just… I still don't know what to do half the time. I'm knew to all of this. I've never had friends like you guys. I've also never been a Kitsune before- Although, I guess, technically I always was. I just didn't know it. Or, was I sort of awakened like you? See, I don't even know how to explain-"

"Kira, it's okay."

The dark haired girl fidgeted, her hands stuck awkwardly in her pocket before she finally pulled it out, a dark object resting in her palm.

"Is that obsidian?" Kira nodded. "An obsidian.. Throwing star?"

"It's a tail." Brown eyes darted up to meet black. "My first."

"Kira, that's incredible. How?"

"I think it means I'm getting stronger. Or, learning. In Mexico, I.. I finally learned how to heal. It's not easy, or all that fun, but I can do it." Kira practically radiated pride as she spoke, her inner fox showing.

"Your mother must be very proud."

She nodded. "She's the one who made me understand what it was, this morning at school. Moments like those I'm glad she's a nine-hundred year old Kitsune."

Lydia just beamed, not knowing what else to say, and eventually the silence between them grew some what awkward. It grew until it was almost deafening in her ears, and she couldn't take it anymore. "I should go."

"Okay."

More awkward silence. Kira's turn.

"It was nice seeing you. Thanks for checking on me."

"No problem."

Lydia arrived at the station much later than she had intended. She had no way of knowing if Parrish was even there, having no knowledge of his personal vehicle, or if he would have time to talk. She'd never really sought him out before. They always seemed to find one another, and always in the oddest of places.

Like the wendigo house, or the day at the cemetery, when she'd told him about Allison.

_Lydia wasn't sure why, or how, she had come to be at the cemetery. It wasn't one of her fugue states, no, but almost like her feet had taken her there without explicitly asking permission first. She did, however, know who they'd brought her to see._

_The ground crunched underfoot as the redhead tramped between grave stones. It had been too long since Lydia had come here, and the guilt began to rise in her chest. Just one more way in which she had failed her best friend._

_As she drew closer to that particular headstone, she noted a marginally familiar male figure stand with his back to her a little ways off. She wasn't particularly bothered to figure out who it was, since living in the same place her entire life had provided an ounce of familiarity with just about everyone's backs. _

_She put no effort into identifying them as she fell to her knees, having finally reached the spot her feet had been headed. Her long, pale fingers traced the letters carved into stone, lips pursing before she choked out a single word. "Ally." Most people would say it had been long enough since the death of the young girl that the sharp, cutting pain Lydia felt should have begun to fade to a sort of dull ache. But most people hadn't felt Allison die. Most people hadn't felt the brilliant light that was allison's life leave her body through a deep stab wound in her abdomen. Most people hadn't felt the cut of the Oni's blade, or Allison's terror as blood crept into her lungs. Her grief as she realized everything and everyone she would be leaving behind. And finally, the perverted version of peace she managed to give herself before she took her last breath._

_Most people would have also had a proper time to grieve. Whereas Lydia had been shoved into another spiral of mysterious events, being forced to hit the ground running without so much as a brief pause. Every day, every danger made Lydia miss her best friend even more._

_The young woman didn't realize she had begun to cry until a soft voice dragged her from her daze._

_"__Lydia?"_

_Brown eyes met green as Lydia's head whipped around in the direction of the voice._

_"__Deputy Parrish?" His civilian clothes would explain why she'd barely recognized him, and even with him standing just a few feet away it had taken a moment for it to register._

_"__Are you alr- Really, really stupid question to ask someone who's crying in a cemetery." He stepped forward, kneeling down next to her. "I guess it's become somewhat of a habit."_

_"__What, meeting in strange places?"_

_"__Well, that. And checking on you."_

_She gave a small smile through her tears, and the pair grew quiet for a moment as they simultaneously turned to look at the headstone._

_"__Argent.. Isn't that the girl who.. Oh." For a skilled Deputy, he wasn't always the brightest. __'__I'm worth five dollars?!"__came to mind, and she nearly cr-p =acked an inappropriately timed smile. "I should have figured there was more to it, but with all the unusual deaths in Beacon Hills, a carjacking wrong, it.."_

_"__It's okay. That's how it was supposed to be. Swept under the rug.." She could feel the Deputy's eyes on her, but kept her own on Ally's stone._

_"__You knew her?"_

_Lydia had almost forgotten exactly how much Parrish didn't know. "She was my best friend. And… I was there." She finally turned to meet his gaze, those green eyes of his so full of concern. "It wasn't a carjacking gone wrong. Allison was… killed, fighting off the Oni. They're sort of like.. Body guards, an extension of a Kitsune created when a Kitsune forms a tail, I think. I don't know exactly how that works, but.." Lydia did her best to explain it all to Parrish as she told him everything that had happened. Trying to find out who the Nogitsune was. Everything that had happened while Stiles was possessed leading up to Ally's death. He listened, fully attentive. She was sure he had to be curious, what with having just discovered he himself was a supernatural being via being burned alive. However, he didn't ask any questions, until she reached the point of Allison's death and became hesitant._

_"__You know when people are going to die, or are in danger of dying. And… You know when they do die. How do you know, Lydia?"_

_The girl took a deep breath through her nose, pressing her eyelids and lips together before finding her voice. "I feel it, when they die. I felt her die. Every… Last… Second." She didn't look at him, didn't want to see his reaction. Pity, maybe even disgust were what she expected._

_"__How do you do it?" She looked to him, and her own confused expression was met with one of… Awe? Admiration? "I don't think I've ever met someone with strength like yours, Lydia." She remained frozen as one of his hands found her shoulder, giving it a little squeeze. "You're extraordinary. I'm sure Allison would be very proud of you." He didn't say it like it was just something that you said. He said it like it was the most honest thing he could think of to say._

_"__She was amazing. So kind, something I've never been good at." Parrish looked like he wanted to disagree, but didn't interrupt. "She had this extraordinary moral compass. She was just so good, ya know. Kind of like Scott." Pausing, Lydia barely hesitated before adding; "Kind of like you." He looked taken aback at that, but Lydia continued before he could say anything. "Who are you here for?"_

_"__My buddy, from the army. He was how I knew about Beacon Hills. When I got back from my tour, I came by to pay my respects. Then, about a year later I just couldn't get this place out of my head. I had been feeling like I needed a change, so I thought, why not?" At least one good thing had come from the Nemeton._

_"__How did he die? Was it in action?"_

_"__No, but he probably would have preferred it that way. He was injured, nothing major but enough for an x-ray. They found a tumor, and it turned out to be cancer. They sent him home. It was near the end of the tour, but I still didn't make it back in time."_

_It was Lydia's turn to comfort, and she placed her hand over his still resting on her arm. "I'm sorry. Were you close?"_

_His lips formed a thin line as his eyes focused on her hand. "Enough." Blinking several times, he gently slid his hand out from under hers when an appropriate amount of time had passed. "Tell me more about Allison."_

_So she did, and it gave her an opportunity to talk about Allison in a way she couldn't to someone who had known her. He gave her a chance to grieve, just a sat in the cemetery long enough for the damp grass to stain their clothes, which they laughed about as they walked out together._

Lydia stood in the doorway of the Sheriff's station, staring at the back of Deputy Parrish's head. After watching him for a few minutes, his hunched posture giving away exhaustion, she slowly approached, Bestiary in hand.

"This used to be on a hard drive, but we eventually decided it would be a good idea to have a hard copy around." He turned at the sound of her voice, only looking away to examine the object she had set on his desk. "So we put it in a book."

He looked back to her, curious. "What is it?"

"It's called the Bestiary." She flipped open to the page on Kanimas, a late answer to his question on what they were. "Whatever you are, it might be in here." Sitting next to him now, she gave the Deputy an earnest look. After studying the page for a moment he looked to her, brow knit together in slight confusion. "I'd like to help you figure it out."


	3. Fire and Smoke

**HAPPY THURSDAY MY LOVES!**

**Okay so holy crap on a stick this took me like almost three hours to type up (I write out the rough draft in a notebook because paper is definitely my medium) because I ended up taking out parts and adding in new parts and ****_adding in more parts_**** because I have a problem and also discovered an AWESOME NEW THEORY ABOUT PARRISH details will be included at the end of the chapter to avoid spoils.**

**Here you have some more friendly Marrish, as well as awkward but well intentioned big brother Derek. Expect some girl bonding next chapter. Expect it. Long for it. Give me ideas because I've never been great at girl bonding. **

**I also made this chapter longer because short chapters or for WEAKLINGS and I'm challenging myself as a writer so I hope you enjoy and that this is as much fun to read as it was to write. **

**You're all lovely!**

The Deputy blinked a few times, eyes narrowing as he studied the creature in front of him. He'd never met anyone like Lydia. SHe wasn't so much a mystery as a sum of unanswered questions, contradictions. How could someone be so strong, but so easily wounded? So caring, but at times unbelievably cold and aloof? She was reserved, but was sometimes forced to wear her heart on her sleeve. Undoubtedly rooted in the supernatural, but seemed to find her sanity in logic and reason. He generally wasn't fond of hard-to-figure-out people, but Lydia intrigued him.

Realizing that he had been staring at her, rather intently, for about half a minute, he averted his gaze back to the book laying open on his desk. He could ask her why she wanted to help, but instead of making her uncomfortable, he added it to the list of unanswered and unasked questions.

Lifting a hand, her traced the drawing on the page. "Where do we start?" He heard her exhale, and wondered if she had been holding her breath for some reason.

"Well, you're not a Kanima, that much I know. Or a werewolf, you'd know by now know if you were a werewolf. I don't think you're a Kistune, but I'm not ruling it out completely." Lydia paused, becoming hesitant. Her hand skated over his as she began flipping pages of the Bestiary.

"What is it?"

"You were sort of vague about the.. Fire. Exactly what you experienced. It might help if I knew more details. If you told me everything you can remember."

Whether she meant it might help him, or help them find out what he was, was made unclear by her tone. Either way, it was becoming an odd habit of his to give in to whatever the girl wanted. Even if it meant reliving one of the most terrifying moments of his life.

"It was… Kind of strange. The pain was psychosomatic at first, I think. I saw the fire, it was all over me and it was like I knew I must be burning, so I felt pain at first. But then.. As my clothes burned away, I saw that the fire wasn't doing anything to my skin. So I stopped screaming. The zipties he put around my wrists and attached to the steering wheel had melted, So I got out of the cruiser, and.. Came here."

"I didn't know whether to assume you had felt it or not, although I sort of did, after how angry you were at the station with Deputy Haigh.."

Jordan grimaced, glancing up at her. What he regretted most about that moment was that Lydia, Stiles and the Sherrif, three people he had grown to respect, had been there to witness his unbridled rage. The Deputy prided himself on self control, being a force-when-only-necessary type of individual. He had seen so much useless violence during his time in Afghanistan, it made him sick. But Lydia didn't seem at all phased, and he supposed she had grown used to the violence. A thought he hated. "There's only a handful of times I've felt that angry." _Angry enough to kill._ Although thankfully, he had not. Haigh was now handcuffed to a hospital bed with a broken jaw and minor concussion, but it could have been much worse. Especially if Jordan was some supernatural creature.

Lydia hummed, as if his statement made her think of something.

"What?"

"Was it like normal anger? Or did it sort of feel like maybe there was something else, some force pushing you you couldn't quite control?"

Biting the inside of his cheek, he mulled over that statement for a hot minute. "Well, it felt pretty uncontrollable. I didn't think I'd be able to stop myself, honestly, which isn't a feeling I've ever really had before." That wasn't entirely true. At Eichen, there had been nothing stopping him from pulling the trigger in Brunski. But he'd had a clear mind then, so it was different. "But I've never had someone try to burn me alive for money before, either."

She hummed again, nodding as she continued flipping through the pages. "It's frustrating, because we don't even know for sure if what you are has anything to do with fire, or if you just have exceptional healing abilities." Her fingers paused, piercing brown eyes flickering up to delve into his own pools of green. "And let's do our best not to _test_ that theory, hm?"

He smirked, his tired expression lighting up marginally. "Well, the more I'm around you guys, the less I feel like I can make that promise." The red head frowned, his weak attempt at humor failing miserably. "Sorry."

Unamused, she averted her gaze back to the Bestiary, resuming her slightly obsessive flipping. "Well, your eyes aren't all glowy, so that rules out a few things.."

"Uh.."

Fingers froze mid flip, eyes darting up. "What do you mean, _uh?_"

"Well, I found Argent in a sewer right before Mexico. He had tracked Peter there, unfortunately enough for him Peter had still been there." Lydia grimaced. "He was stuck to the wall by metal rod Peter had shoved through his abdomen and bent sideways to keep him from following." He gave an apologetic frown as she sucked in a sharp breath, aware of how much Allison's father meant to her. "It was too deep into the wall to pull out, so I pulled it back with Argent's help.."

"And?"

"He said he saw my eyes turn, or I guess, glow a sort of orange. But I mean, he could have been delusional from the pain?"

"Did _he_ say he could have imagined it?"

No, he hadn't, but Jordan was holding onto his last shred of hope that maybe he wasn't some supernatural creature. He still didn't see how he could be when he had been so normal his entire life. A bit of a nerd, but normal.

"Listen, I know this is confusing and a little bit terrifying. You've just found out you're not exactly who you've always thought you are, and that's hard to accept. But denying it is pointless, and won't change anything. It will just make the process of figuring everything out that much harder. Trust me, I know." His forehead crinkled as he gave her a confused look. "I tried to fight it, after the bite. At first we didn't know what I was. We didn't know for a long time. And then when we did find out, it was because some crazy murderous dark druid told me while she was torturing me. I didn't exactly want to be a harbinger of death. I used to hope I was just crazy, because I felt that way anyway." Her normally full lips pressed into a thin line. "I never wanted this. Scott never wanted this, Liam never wanted this. We know how you feel, and we'll never let you go through this alone."

He was amazed, once again, by the strength of her character. And not just her, but all of them. They were all so connected, a type of connection he had only ever witnessed and experienced among his own unit in the army. He had never met a group of teenagers who had been through so much, and come out the better for it. Or any group of people, really. They were like a family, but almost something more than that. It was an amazing thing to witness. Instead of thanking her, as he intended to do when he opened his mouth, he asked; "How much sleep have you had?"

She quirked a perfectly manicured eyebrow. "How much sleep have _you_ had, Deputy?"

He'd had approximately twenty minutes, slumped awkwardly against the wall of the evidence locker, actually. Although he doubted she would find that answer satisfactory, so instead he replied; "I'm used to it."

"_So am I._" Her stubbornness was frustrating, but he let it go. For now.

"Any theories yet?"

"A few. None that really make any sense. Any mythical creatures come to mind when you think fire?"

A stupid little grin formed on his lips. "Dragons," he retorted, earning an exasperated look from the red head.

"You should hang out with Stiles sometime. I think the two of you would nerd well together."

"Did you just use nerd as a verb?"

"No." Her eyes held a playful glint, something he was relieved to see, but she was obviously exhausted. He wanted her to go home and rest, but had learned Lydia didn't like to do so until she had finished whatever it was she had set out to do. However, he had a feeling there was one way he might be able to convince her to pack it in for the day.

"Will you go home and get some sleep if I agree to do the same?" He was surprised to see she looked almost relieved as she nodded in agreement. "Okay, give me fifteen minutes to finish up this last bit of paperwork, and I'll drive you home."

"I drove here."

"Lydia, driving fatigued is one of the leading causes of accidents among teens-"

"Parrish, I'm not leaving my car the Sheriff's station."

"At least let me follow you home?"

"Fine." She sighed, hunching over his desk and continuing her study of the Bestiary. He was sure they looked like quite the pair, both

completely silent and engrossed in their separate labors for the twenty-seven minutes it took him to complete his paper work. It took him longer partially because the Sheriff was already gone for the day, having left early to spend time with his son (which was entirely understandable, considering). That meant several officers stopped by his desk with questions, which he answered as quickly as he could without being rude. Lydia finally shut the Bestiary when he shut the file drawer under his desk harder than intended, causing her to knock the book to the floor in the process. They both reached for it at the same time, and while their hands never touched, he suddenly found his face impossibly close to her own, and became temporarily entranced by the depth of her brown eyes. Her voice brought him out of it. "Finally finished?"

He chose not to answer her question, which had an obvious bite of sarcasm. "Come one, let's get you home."

She stood, stretching her arms above her head and making tired little noises. He was caught between thinking she was kind of adorable, and also seriously considering pulling the Deputy card to stop her from driving home. However, he didn't want to be that person with Lydia, or a total hypocrite. As they walked silently through the parking lot to their separate vehicles, she gave him a small wave. He clicked the beeper for his subaru, sliding into the driver's side. His car was clean and wall maintained, partially because he kept everything he owned as such. Also because he usually drove the cruiser. However, after the incident he had inherited Haigh's, and preferred to drive it as little as possible. He followed the blue toyota mostly on auto pilot, nearly to the point of pulling into her driveway behind it. Instead he slowed, waiting for her to get out and giving a little wave before driving off. He could have sworn she wore a slightly amused expression, but couldn't imagine why.

**()**

Jordan awoke in his apartment, which was as clean and orderly as the inside of his car, moments before his alarm went off.

He silenced it with one swift movement of his hand, sitting up and leaning over the side of his bed. His head was heavy with sleep, so much so he barely remembered falling asleep the night before. It was all a bit foggy, but he vaguely recalled the drive home, as well as showering and having a small dinner before climbing into bed. So, at least he hadn't sleep in his uniform. One thing was for sure, he did not feel up to going to work. He could power through it, he knew, but one luxury of no longer being in the military was that he didn't have to. Still, it was unlike him to call off, so he had to reassure the Sheriff nothing had happened except for the events of the past few weeks finally catching up to him. Stilinski wasn't at all mad, telling him to relax and get some sleep. Jordan would gladly do the former, but on the latter he could make no promises. Once the Deputy was awake, it was nearly impossible for him to get back to sleep for at least twelve to fifteen hours.

His bare feet made small slapping noises against the stone floor of his apartment as he made his way to the small kitchen. The apartment wasn't large by any means, but the architect had apparently gone for an industrial look, providing somewhat vaulted cieling in the living area. It was the mean reason he'd chosen the place, that and it was close to the station. It made things feel a little less cramped, even with living in the center of town. Somewdays, if the traffic on the street below wasn't too bad, he'd open the double doors to the sorry excuse for a balcony, illuminating the apartment with California sunlight. Unfortunately, he doubted today would be one of those days, even when the sun did rise. It was one of those rare days where the sun was shrouded by ominous clouds, threatening to drop a heavy load of rain on them at any moment.

Setting the percolator on the gas stove top and cranking the dial, he gripped the edge of the countertop. During his time in Afghanistan, they were lucky to have coffee, and obviously they didn't have any fancy electric coffee makers available. He'd grown used to the richer taste, and it was one of the first things he'd bought upon returning home. All around his apartment was evidence of his time in the military. The organization, for one. There was a place for everything, and everything was always in it's place. The few DVDs he owned were lined alphabetically on one of the shelves of his TV stand, and on the shelf next to it the remotes to his TV, DVD player and sound system lined up by size. He picked up after himself as he went, never leaving dirty dishes in the sink or clothes on the floor. His closet was immaculate, clothing organized by function and then color. His bed was always made, something he realized he had almost forgotten to do that morning, and quickly shuffled back to the bedroom. His OCD was fueled more by paranoia than a need for things to be clean. If he knew where everything was supposed to be, and he always kept everything the same way, he'd be able to tell immediately if anything had been moved. If anyone had been there in his absence.

Unfortunately for him, werewolves could get around without much disruption, and as he went to return to the kitchen he was greeted by the sight of Derek Hale standing with a stoic expression in the middle of his living room. Had he not been so easily recognizable, Jordan might have reached for his gun. Which would have been rather embarrassing, since it was resting unloaded in his nightstand drawer.

"How did you get in?"

"Balcony."

Jordan blinked towards the doors, expecting one of them to be broken since he always, _always_ locked them at night, as well as all of the windows. He must have underestimated just how exhausted he had been the night before. His attention was quickly diverted back to Derek, when the prickling worry of why he was there came to mind. Anxiety bubbled in his throat as he asked the question he wasn't sure he wanted to know the answer to. "Is everyone okay?"

Derek chuckled, finally relaxing his posture. "Yes, everyone's fine. I thought you might want to talk."

"About?"

"Your nightmares."

Jordan's bright green eyes snapped shut, the remnants from his most recent bout of night terrors flashing behind his eyelids. Were werewolves telepathic? Was Lydia telepathic? That could end badly. It could end badly either way. He had recently been corrected on his assumption that Lydia was psychic, having been informed that she was in fact a _Banshee. _Someone who predicted death. Which was, in his opinion, just like a psychic with a specialty. A thought he had been smart enough not to express out loud. He was still missing a lot of details however, and wondered if this was one of them.

Derek seemed to sense the question of how lingering in the air. "Scott and I have a sort of.. Patrol." Jordan opened his eyes, giving the wolf a confused stare. "He would go before he went to bed, around ten or eleven, then I'd go some time between two and four. To check on people. People on the dead pool." The Deputy's eyebrows shot up at that.

"_Everyone_ on the dead pool?"

"No, although Scott probably would have if he'd had his way. I managed to talk some sense into him, and we kept it to the people we knew more.. Personally."

"So, Lydia, Stiles, Kira, Malia, Liam.."

"You were added more recently."

"Okay. And.. How do you know..?"

"Your heart rate, for one. And you weren't always.. Quiet."

Jordan grimaced, remembering the first time he had woken up screaming, something he hadn't done since first returning to the states. He was used to nightmares. The ones about the fire, in which his brain produced a phantom pain that he knew he should have felt as the fire licked his skin, weren't his first. It was doubtful they would be his last, and even now they weren't his only. He'd attended the recommended therapy sessions after his tour, and had been deemed psychologically stable enough to carry a gun and work on the police force. If his nightmares were his biggest problem, he considered himself lucky. He also didn't feel a particularly strong need to talk to anyone about what he was feeling.

Disturbed by Parrish's silence, Derek spoke again. "It's a good thing I was here the first time and not Scott, or he might have busted in under the impression you were being attacked."

Jordan managed a small smile at that.

"Listen, you don't have to talk to me. This is normally Scott's area, but since he's a little.. Preoccupied, I thought I'd offer."

"I appreciate that, really. But I'm.. Not very good at talking about myself. Especially, no offense, to someone I barely know."

Derek looked almost relieved, and stepped forward to place a friendly hand on Jordan's shoulder. "Understandable. But.. You should talk to someone."

Once Jordan nodded in acknowledgment, Derek walked past him to the door, leaving the Deputy a little embarrassed and a lot confused. But most of all, alone.

Usually he thrived in solitude. There was less disruption, routine was easier to maintain. That wasn't to say he didn't have friends, of course. He had several back in his hometown, at least. After Haigh, he'd been a little wary of people in the department, and was too busy to meet anyone outside of it. Besides Lydia's group, anyway, but that had started off being work related. _Started off?_ He supposed that driving down to Mexico to face off against Berserkers and a were-jaguar with a bunch of hunters went a little above and beyond the call of duty. Did it though? Wasn't it his duty to help people? _No, it's your duty to uphold the law. Something you haven't been very good at doing __lately. _He grimaced, thinking of all the lies he had just put in his paperwork, documenting recent incidents.

Before moving back to his coffee, he went to lock the door behind Derek, checking the balcony doors and all of the windows in turn. As he sipped the black coffee, Jordan thought perhaps he should put more effort into making acquaintances his own age, instead of just hanging around a group of mostly-teenagers. Then again, none of them really acted all that much like teenagers. Everything they had been through had not only brought them closer together, but launched them far above their peers in their level of maturity. It was painfully obvious all of them had been through the ringer, and not just in the supernatural sense. Jordan knew that the Sheriff's wife had passed some years before, leaving a mark on both him and his son. They'd all lost their friend Allison, which obviously weighed heavily on them even now. Most of all, it seemed to him, Scott and Lydia. He could tell they shared a special sort of pain over her loss. They had lost people in other ways, at least from what he had put together from the snippets of information he received during their conversations, and from what Lydia had told him in the cemetery. Another girl and boy had been killed in their fight with some sort of Alpha pack, and in turn on of them had been killed not long after joining them. The guy who had been turned into a Kanima had been shipped off to somewhere in Europe after he wasn't a Kanima anymore, and another named Isaac had left shortly after Allison's death. He really didn't understand the whole Malia situation, and wasn't sure he wanted to, but knew she hadn't exactly had it easy either. They had all experienced so much loss just in the past few years, and it had aged them.

Despite all of that, they were still good kids. Just not so much the kid part. Especially Lydia.

Why did it always come back to Lydia? He still couldn't quite put a finger on why the red head fascinated him so much. Either way, he had come to the conclusion he was satisfied with his.. Sort of group of friends.

**()**

Lydia Martin had not, a day in her life, gone to school looking anything but her best. Not after she had spent several days in the hospital after being attacked by Peter, and then several days running naked through the woods. Not even after her best friend was killed. That wasn't to say she went to grand measures to hide her struggles, no. Lydia had no reason to hide anything from the blissful idiots who attended her school.

So of course today was no exception, despite the fact that she opted out of wearing heels. Instead she went for a very typical fall look, enjoying the relaxed wardrobe while she still could, donning a sweater, skinny jeans and some mid-calf boots. Having some extra time as she had woken up at an ungodly early hour, she decided to take the hour it took to straighten her hair. Once she was satisfied with her makeup, she stood to gather her things and head to school, only to be told by the digital clock on her nightstand that it was barely after 6 a.m. She groaned, pivoting as her eyes scanned the room for something to occupy her time with. They landed, of course, on the Bestiary. Several colored sticky notes now stuck out from the tops of the pages. Red for less than likely, yellow for possibly, and green if they held some solid probability.

As she picked up the book, nibbling on her bottom lip, she held an internal debate. She didn't want to harass the poor man, but he had to be at least as curious as she was to find out _what _he was. The debate ended in her whipping out her phone, as his address was one she didn't have, but she had someone in mind who might.

**Lydia:** Parrish's address?

The response was almost immediate, bringing a smile to her lips.

**Derek:** 14 South Avenue Apt. B7. Why?

**Lydia:** Helping him with the whole unidentified supernatural creature thing. I have some time before school.

**Derek:** Have you slept yet?

Lydia smiled, enjoying big brother Derek much more than perpetually broody Derek.

**Lydia:** Lots, promise.

**Derek:** Good. He's awake, just talked to him.

She itched to ask what about, but refrained.

**Lydia:** Thank you.

As she went to put the phone in her purse, it buzzed again.

**Derek:** Try to get him to talk to you, he's been having nightmares. Don't want the only sane person in this town to lose it.

Lydia frowned. She knew about Derek and Scott's little nightly routine since she didn't get much sleep herself, and it took her only a few seconds to assume they much have added Parrish to their route.

**Lydia:** How bad?

**Derek:** Bad.

She bit her lip. Thinking about it now, he had looked more tired since the incident, and it was a friendly reminder that while he apparently hadn't felt anything, it wasn't just pain that caused nightmares. A fact she knew well enough.

**Lydia:** Okay. I'll do what I can.

The phone remained silent this time as she tossed it into her purse, hurrying to her car and speeding to Parrish's apartment. She was thankful she didn't get pulled over, as the amount of irony would have been painful.

Knocking on his door, she listened to the soft footsteps approach, pausing, she assumed, as he looked through the peep hole. It didn't take him long to swing open the door, an adorably confused expression painted on his features.

However, her brown eyes didn't stay on his face long, and she decided no one should be allowed to look that good in a t-shirt and sweats. Especially someone so unattainable. Her eyes flickered back up just in time to see that his own had been roaming. While normally a playful smirk would have lit up her features, the lightest of blushes instead crept onto her pale cheeks.

Lydia Martin didn't blush.

**()**

_Lydia Martin just caught you checking her out. _Whatever, it's not like it's the first time. And she knows she's never seemed overly bothered by it before. _Underage Lydia Martin just caught you checking her out. And blushed. _Fuck. The blush is what caught him off guard. It was so uncharacteristic of her that he must have made her uncomfortable, and he immediately felt like a total creepy. Regaining his composure, he stepped to the side to let her in. "Are you okay?"

She nodded, much to his relief, moving quickly inside. "I had some time before school, and I did a little more reading last night…" Lydia gave him a weird look as he immediately locked the door behind her, and he felt like an even bigger creep.

"Habit, sorry." Even though it made him irrationally nervous, he slowly turned the lock back. Much to his surprised, her lips formed a warm smile as she reached over, sliding the dead bolt shut.

"It's okay." Without another word on the matter, she made her way into the living room. "This is _nice._" He was unsure whether or not to be insulted by her somewhat surprised tone, but she quieted his concerns. "Not that I was expecting it to not be, it just wasn't _exactly_ what I had expected."

"Oh?" He couldn't help but wonder what sort of place she imagined him living in.

"I thought it would be more.. cabiny. You give off a sort of, secretly-a-mountain-man-in-my-spare-time vibe."

"Seriously?" He shook his head as she gave him a little smirk. "What, disappointed?"

"Mildly." Perching herself on the arm of the sofa, she held out the Bestiary. "I marked my theories."

He stepped forward, taking the Bestiary in hand. He'd been around the Sheriff and his son long enough to recognize the red-yellow-green system, and opened to the first red. "_Fire _Kistune? There are different kinds?"

"Yes. Kira is a Thunder Kitsune. Although it's pretty unlikely you are for several reasons, one being that they are most commonly identified as-"

"Women, yeah," he said, scanning the page.

"However, that's only specifically mentioned in some accounts, so it could just be that male Kistune are rare, or have generally been more reclusive throughout history."

He shook his head, mind already muddled as he began flipping to the next. They finished off the red markers fairly quick, spending barely any more time on the three yellows as Lydia explained why he could be but probably wasn't those particular supernatural creatures. It was when they reached the first green that Lydia's flow of speech became more hesitant. "What is it?" He squinted at the name, written in painfully fancy hand writing. "Phoenix? Aren't those supposed to be like giant, flaming-"

"Birds, supposedly. But shapeshifting isn't exactly uncommon among us supernaturals. Mythology isn't always concrete, anway. I do have a few questions."

He sat down on the couch finally, staring at the pages. "Ask away."

"Was anything different, directly after the fire? Did you experience any memory loss? Did anything about your body change, maybe scars seeming to disappear?"

He didn't need to think long before shaking his head.

She sighed, running her long, pale fingers through her hair. "It says just about everywhere, including the Bestiary, that Phoenix' are 'born anew from their ashes.' If you remember correctly and you didn't burn up into a little pile of ash, and rise out of it.. I guess it could have some bothersome metaphorical meaning. Everything else fit, which is why I marked it." She paused, then began reciting from memory. "The Phoenix is a rare, elusive creature. Many cultures associate the great fiery bird with justice, and in some Japanese folklore is said to appear with the rise of a new, virtuous ruler. In other cultures the Phoenix is thought of as a guardian, coming about in times of war to protect the people." Another, heavier sigh as she flipped to the other green marker, the farthest one back in the book. "I have a feeling you won't like this one."

He squinted at the name, trying to figure out how to pronounce it. "Bar-guest?"

"Barghest, yes, more or less. That's what it's called in this, anyway. The broader term for all it's different forms in European folklore is just the black dog. It's been called things like the Bogey Beast, the Churchyard Beast some think they're hell hounds, some mythology says they're the same thing as a Grim, but in the Bestiary they're two different things-"

"Wait, you think I'm a _hell hound?_"

**()**

Lydia very nearly recited what was becoming her own little mantra, _not all monsters do monstrous things. _"No, Parrish, I think there's a possibility you could be a _Barghest._" His confused and slightly wounded expression nearly broke her heart. Parrish was one of those undeniably good people, and here she was telling him he could be a beast commonly considered to be malevolent. "Look, here." She slid off the arm rest and onto the couch next to him, gently pointing to a line on the page. "The nature of the beast can be determined by the nature of its human counterpart." He seemed unconvinced until his eyes scanned further down the page.

"In either form, whether beast or man, the Barghest cannot be harmed by fire… One can identify a Barghest in it's human form by the red or orange glow of it's eyes when excited. Excited?"

She nodded. "I think it means the more general definition." As her finger slid lower on the page, directing his attention to another part of the description, she felt her throat thicken. Her voice was barely audible when she next spoke; "A Barghest will often appear at the death of any notable person." His green eyes looked to her, obviously waiting for an explanation. "You came to Beacon Hills.. Not long before Allison was killed."

Those damned eyes of his widened, and she knew he what he was going to say before he could open his mouth. "Lydia.. You think I caused Allison's death?"

She shook her head fervently. "No, I think you were drawn here by it, or the possibility of it. Like how I find bodies. I thought it was just the Nemeton that brought you here at first, and it still could have been that in part. But if this is what you are.. It makes sense. Allison was well liked, and came from a sort of noble family in the hunter world." Thinking, and talking about her best friend so much made her throat tighten further, so she let him read the rest of the information the Bestiary had to offer in silence.

**()**

The Barghest is a weredog, taking the shape of a great,

black beast with large teeth, grotesque claws and glowing

red or orange eyes when in animal form. While often

considered a malevolent creature, the nature of the beast

can be determined by the nature of its human counterpart.

That being said, the Barghest is not always aware of who

he is when shifted into animal form. In either form, whether

beast or man, the Barghest can be identified by the red or

orange glow of it's eyes when excited. They are often

associated with The Grim, due to their similar appearances,

and that a Barghest will often appear at the death of any

notable person. The lineage of a Barghest can be most

commonly traced to and English heritage, however Scottish

ancestry is not uncommon.

Jordan felt like he was going to puke.

The fact that he could have had anything to do with Allison's death, even in the most remote way, nearly drove him insane. The girl's death was something that had bothered him even before he knew it was involved with the supernatural, however more so after he found out her connection to Lydia and her friends. From all accounts he could tell that Allison was the kind of person who deserved to live a long, happy life. The kind of person who should have a better death than at the hands of some vengeful spirit. More over, her death had stuck with Lydia in a way that he saw her grief almost every time he looked into those big, brown eyes. It also terrified him to think a similar fate may someday befall Lydia.

"Parrish?"

He looked to her, not sure how long he had been quietly staring down at the Bestiary. And at the sight of her, looking at him with so much concern and a little guilt, he felt something inside of him shift. Something that he quickly pushed aside, clearing his throat and closing the Bestiary. "So, demon dog."

"No. Possibly a Phoenix or a _Barghest._ I'm still going to talk to Deaton, Noshiko, get their opinions and any information they might have. Maybe even Peter, if they'll let me."

"_No._"

She seemed surprised by his abrupt objection. "What?"

"You are not going anywhere near that lunatic, especially not on my behalf, okay? I know you're stubborn, and I know you think you have to figure everything out but you don't, and you're not going. He's done enough damage for a lifetime." He himself was surprised by the sternness of his voice, and he thought perhaps he had gone beyond the limits of their new friendship.

"Okay."

He gave her a wide-eyed stare, shocked. She merely smiled. "Okay?"

"I won't go to see Peter." He raised an eyebrow. "Well, I mean, he really might be able to help, but if you're going to pitch such a fit.."

Not used to Lydia Martin giving in so easily, he was quiet for a minute, Also because he didn't entirely trust that she would keep her word and stay away from the mass murdering maniac.

"Come on Parrish. Quit worrying so much."

"No Promises." It was her turn to raise an eyebrow. "It's my job," he added, not wanting to give her the wrong idea. _And what idea would that be, Deputy? _"Should you be getting to school?"

"Should you be getting to work?"

He shook his head. "No, I called out."

"Are you okay?"

That thing that had shifted inside Jordan did so once again, and he looked away. Only to have his eyes drawn back by a gently hand on his arm, her skin shockingly cold.

"Talk to me, Parrish."

And he wanted to. As he looked back to those eyes, which were giving him such an intense look, he wanted to tell her everything. The

nightmares, and not just the ones about the fire. He wanted to share with her all the ghosts from the war that still followed him around. He wanted to tell her more about his friend in Beacon Hills cemetery. He wanted to tell her he hated everything that she had been through, but that it easier for him to talk to her. But it was for that very reason that he couldn't unload his miseries onto the girl. She'd had enough of her own over the past few years, she didn't need to sit around and listen to the woes of a soldier. So instead he put his hand over hers, just as she had that day in the cemetery, and gave those cold fingers a little squeeze. "I'm fine Lydia, really."

The red head seemed entirely unconvinced, but he hadn't been too hopeful about convincing her. She was too smart for that. She relented, however, giving him a soft smile. "Well, you know how to reach me if you change your mind." They both stood, Jordan quickly letting go of her hand before walking with her the short distance to the door. "I'll call you once I find out anything else?" He nodded. "See you, Parrish."

He opened the door for her. "Be safe."

With a roll of her eyes, the red head walked out and down the stairs, a pair of bright green eyes trailing after her.

**Okay so first of all the Barghest theory was introduced to me by this lovely tumblr user. With her permission, I took what she had come up with, put my own spin on it, and ran. I am moderately in love with it because the black dog is so prominent in folklore but not mocked like werewolves and vampires pretty much are nowadays, there's still like mystery to it.**

**Also as promised there will be some (and by some i mean a hella amount of) girl bonding between Malia/Kira/Lydia in the next chapter beCAUSE WE'VE ALL BEEN WAITING FOR SOMETHING MORE THAN THE LITTLE MOMENTS THAT IMPLY THEIR BONDING (I love you Jeff Davis I really do but ****_sometimes_****).**


	4. Long Nights and Late Mornings

**Hello my beauties. As promised the below chapter contains some lady bonding, and then some. It isn't as long as the previous one, but the next chapter will more than compensate for that.**

**Also I am posties early because I wanted to give you bbies a little treat before I bring the pain.**

**Love you mean it.**

**()**

A few days had passed, and Lydia had been too busy with school to do anymore digging, and was distracted from the slight guilty feeling forming in her stomach when she relieved a random text from Malia.

**Malia:** I'm coming over

**Malia**: Sorry. MAY I come over?

**Lydia:** Sure. Any specific reason?

**Malia:** Math

**Lydia:** Okay.

**Malia:** I'm bringing Kira.

**()**

**Kira:** Malia just more or less kidnapped me. Should I be worried?

**Lydia:** You're coming here. She says math, but I suspect something else.

**Kira:** Yeah, I don't see anything remotely resembling homework.

**Lydia:** Wonderful.

**Kira:** Here

Lydia met them at the front door, and it did seem that Malia had already given up the façade of needing math help.

She practically stormed into the Martin household, flinging herself at the kitchen. "Please tell me you have some decent junk food." Lydia sighed, trailing after her with Kira on her heels. She wordlessly opened the cabinet containing the Martin's mostly untouched stash of goodies, which Malia probably could have found on her own with that werecoyote nose. The two girls watched as Malia tore into a bag of chocolate covered pretzels, Kira finally piping up after a minute or two.

"Malia…?"

Her hazel eyes snapped up, wide and moderately confused. "Wha'?"

Lydia gestured to the bag of chocolatey goodness. "Care to tell us what's going on?"

Malia set the bag to the side, looking almost sheepish. "I'm kind of freaking out about my mom. The real one, not the one I killed." Lydia was fond of Malia's brutal honesty. The girl didn't often admit when something was bothering her, but when she did she was upfront about it. Which was something Lydia appreciated. "Peter said she's a werecoyote, like me. Or was, if she's even still alive. It's weird. She could be dead. I could have siblings. Like, a lot of them with her apparent track record. She could be dead and I could have siblings. Or she could be like, waiting for me in the desert. I could have a mom and like, siblings, waiting for me somewhere in the desert in Mexico and I'm just sitting here being completely _useless_ trying to learn math and eating chocolate covered pretzels and-"

"_Malia._" Lydia placed her hands on the girls knees just as she snatched up the pretzel bag, demanding her full attention. Kira looked on with wide, mildly terrified eyes. "Your mother is not here because of her own choices. She gave you up for adoption before you could probably even open your eyes. You didn't do anything."

"I killed the only mother I've ever known, and the only sister I might ever have. Maybe she realized how psychotic Peter is and didn't have to deal with raising his devil spawn!"

"Then she was a bitch."

Kira's eyes grew wider, if that was even possible, and Malia's hand froze mid pretzel grab.

"If she gave you up because she didn't want to deal with you? Then she wasn't a mother at all. And she certainly didn't deserve to have such an amazing daughter."

Malia's smile was slow, and small, but genuine. The two girl's stayed like that for a moment, eyes locked, until Kira finally spoke.

"Or… Maybe she didn't want to give you up? Maybe she had to, to keep you safe. I mean, Talia took the memory of you and your mom from Peter. Maybe they were like, friends? And she asked Talia to? To.. Keep.. You.. Safe..?" She trailed off as the other girls turned to look at her, both still smiling.

"Thanks, Kira. Thank you, both of you." Tossing the pretzel bag on the counter next to her, she slid off. "_Wow_, do I feel better." She began to walk towards the front door, Lydia and Kira looking after her with confused expressions.

Lydia spoke first. "Uh, Malia?" The brunette spun around. "Where do you think you're going?"

"To Stiles'. I'm better now."

Lydia turned to Kira, a mischievous smile playing at her lips. "Kira, would you happen to know what day it is?"

"Friday…?"

"Right. And my parents are out-of-town this weekend." Kira finally caught on, and the two girls stepped forward. Each grabbed one of Malia's wrists, pulling her away from the door.

The werecoyote decided to hazard a guess. "Are we throwing a party?"

Lydia laughed. "Way better."

Kira grinned, and in that moment she looked gleefully foxlike. "Girls night."

**()**

Some time later, the three girls were set up in the theater room. They had a nest of blankets in front of the large, wall mounted flat screen, as well as a pile of snacks along with an assortment of nail polish and magazines. It wasn't a commonly known fact that Lydia Martin actually loved movie clichés. Jackson never took the hint, no matter how many times she had forced him to watch The Notebook. Before Allison, she'd never really had a close girl friend. So she had suffocated the brunette with shopping trips, movie nights, and mani/pedis. Allison never protested much. She had been too selfless for that.

Malia, however, had no problem complaining.

"I'm supposed to be at Stiles'."

"This movie is stupid."

"I don't even like pink!"

"Why does that girl think she's a bird?"

Kira sat, quietly painting her fingers a dark opal while Lydia painted Malia's toenails an alarming shade of glittery pink. The trio was a sight, each contrasting the other in appearance and mannerisms as much as they did in personality. Malia had an "I'm determined not to enjoy this" expression while she mindlessly dug into a bag of chips, eyes glued to the screen. She had finally given into Lydia's makeover request once the redhead had switched out The Notebook for The Avengers. She now paid no mind to Lydia, who sat cross-legged with a pensive expression as she worked her magic on Malia's previously somewhat knarly toenails. It startled both Malia and Kira when she suddenly sat up straight, exclaiming; "Finished!"

They turned their attention to Malia's now perfectly manicured toenails, glittering even in the light from the TV. The werecoyote stared at them for a hot minute before raising her eyes to Lydia's, a wide smile stretching her lips. "Make my fingers match."

Lydia immediately shifted her position, delighted at the discovery that Malia did, in fact, like pink.

Kira, however, could no longer stand the silence. "This is seriously the quietest girls' night I've ever been to. And I'm using the term girls' night loosely, because I'm pretty sure it's some sort of ritualistic requirement for us to like, talk about boys or girls or stupid teachers or our parents or something."

Lydia raised a brow, not sure if she'd ever heard Kira talk that much at once without encouragement. "Well I'd love to know more about your 900 year old mother, but I don't think that's exactly what you had in mind."

Kira glared, but there was humor glimmering in her eyes.

"I can talk about Stiles."

The Banshee and the Fox exchanged looks. Lydia had guessed Kira was privy to the fact that Stiles once had a huge thing for Lydia due to her relationship with Scott, and it was confirmed by the apologetic look in her soft features. Lydia really didn't mind though. Seeing Stiles happy with someone who cared about him so openly wasn't something she could rightfully be upset about. It still stung, sometimes. She figured it always would. Throughout high school her view of the Sheriff's son had changed multiple times. At first he was just competition, the only other student to be extraordinarily academically gifted. But then when she became more secretive about her intellectual prowess, she saw him as a slight annoyance. Then Scott came onto her radar after he became magically good at Lacrosse sophomore year, and Stiles became the hot guy's best friend. Then her entire world exploded, and slowly Stiles became the person explaining all the insanity, the person who looked out for her. Before she knew it, he was her anchor. He was funny, quick, a genius. She didn't know when she fell in love with him, or if maybe part of it was just transference. But it was the kind of love, she had discovered, that didn't necessarily need romance. Stiles would always be a part of her. And if he loved Malia, then she would too.

"Well, what's on your mind?" Kira raised a confused eyebrow, but didn't say anything.

"Okay so the sex is like, amazing, right? But he doesn't always want to." Thankfully closed bottle of opal nail polish went flying as it's owner began choking on nothing in particular. Malia gave her a strange look, but Lydia just smiled. _Virgins are adorable. _

"Well, how many times do you usually try?"

"I dunno, like three?"

"Three times a week?!" Kira looked mildly disturbed, and Lydia wished she could brace her for she had a feeling they were both about to hear.

"No, three times a night." Kira paled. Lydia chuckled, reaching over to pat her knee.

"Malia, sweetheart. Despite his somewhat recent possession by an evil fox spirit, Stiles is human. A human who doesn't get a lot of sleep and spends far too much time chasing around supernatural creatures. You're probably exhausting him."

Completely ignoring the mortified look on Kira's face, the disappointed Malia continued informing them about the intimate little details of her relationship with Stiles. Lydia could only imagine the comical look on his face if he ever found out she'd shared so much with them, and she seriously considered telling him just for the blushing, the stammering. "And then he does this thing, where he like grazes his teeth against my-"

"Okay, seriously, I've learned more about the human anatomy in this conversation than I have in any health class, like, ever." Finally done with both of Malia's hands, Lydia placed her own, folded and very proper-like in her lap.

"So the wolf and the fox have yet to join naughty bits?"

Kira's cheeks became an alarmingly similar color to Malia's fingernails. "No. We've only been on one real date. And we got abducted. And… I… Haven't."

Malia was, of course, confused. "Haven't what?" Lydia flicked her affectionately on the arm. "Oooh. You haven't had sex." She looked to Lydia. "What's that called?"

Lydia smiled wider, for many reasons. On one hand, she found Kira's sweet embarrassment to be highly amusing. On the other, Malia had just turned to her to explain something human she didn't understand, what she was usually turning to Stiles for. "Virgin."

"I'm _not_… I mean, technically, but I've, you know. _Done things._"

Malia opened her mouth, probably to ask _what kind of things, _but Lydia spoke first. "I believe you. We don't have to talk about it." Kira was grateful. Malia, disappointed, but it was painfully obvious Kira was uncomfortable. Lydia had always figured Kira was sort of a, what happens in the bedroom stays in the bedroom kind of girl. Lydia respected that. She, however, was not. In most cases. She felt wrong talking about her recent dry spell seeing as it was caused by the death of her latest not-boyfriend, Aiden. However, she was a young woman. A young woman with needs. Now that everything had calmed down, and her mind was freed from constantly working on the latest mystery, it had begun to wonder back to her needs. Wants. What have you. Due to her friend's obvious discomfort however, she would refrain on venting her troubles until she and Malia had one on one time.

The movie came to an end, resulting in a very upset Malia. She insisted they put the next one in, only to cry out in protest when they explained there wasn't a second one. Yet. However they managed to appease her by informing her of the fact that a lot of the characters had their own movies, and Lydia slipped in the first Captain America. Malia groaned over his butt after he took the serum until she eventually dozed off. Twitching and whimpering occasionally, her dozing gradually became a deep sleep.

"Do you think it's weird Scott and I haven't really.. Ya know?"

Lydia gave her a classic, _don't be stupid_ look. "Of course not, Kira."

"Do you think it's weird that I've never.."

"Kira. No. You can wait as long as you need to, okay? And Scott definitely won't care. He'll wait as long as you need him to."

"You think so?"

"I know so. He's a good one."

Kira glanced to the snoring coyote. "Do you think she knows about you and Stiles?"

"No. But there's not really anything to know. If he hasn't told her it's probably because he doesn't think she'd understand. I don't understand it, sometimes. We just have this.. Connection. It could have gone either way. It almost.. I think we might have ended up together. But just everything.. It was too much. Too much for either of us to risk. And we didn't need to. What we are is enough."

Kira gave one of her closed mouth smiles. "What you guys have is amazing. I've never seen anything like it."

Lydia nodded, holding a small smile of her own. "I don't know what I'd have done without him through everything. I really.. I didn't know what I was going to do if we couldn't.. If the Nogitsune.." Kira wrapped her delicate hands around Lydia's pale ones.

"But he's fine. The Nogitsune is gone. He's fine. You're fine.." The dead hung in the air after her silence. They always lingered in the silences between conversations, and the silences at night when Lydia lied in her bed. Sometimes she could even hear their whispers.

"Yeah. We're all fine."

**()**

The next morning Lydia woke up as the awkward middle spoon, Malia's lanky arms wrapped tight around her middle. She was mildly confused, blinking several times at Kira's dark hair before drifting back off to sleep for she didn't know how long. When she awoke again, her nose was greeted by the smell of bacon instead of peach shampoo, and found that she was the only one still remaining in their little nest. The door to the theater room was open, and she shuffled out and made her way to the kitchen.

Her two friends were working side by side, dodging flying bullets of bacon grease as they flew from the frying pan. The counters were a mess, covered in wrappers and egg shells and god knows what else. They had their hair in matching messy buns, and had apparently raided Lydia's dresser drawers for pajama shorts and t-shirts. She didn't realize until then how much she had missed having friends who got into your stuff without asking. Sitting on the stools pulled up to the island, were an amused Scott and Stiles, only one of whom noticed her arrival thanks to his extra sensory hearing.

"Hey, Lyds."

"Good morning."

Stiles turned to look at her, beaming. She walked over and sat next to him, leaning sleepily into his arm. "Uh, tired?" She nodded. For once Lydia didn't worry that she probably looked a fright, or was still wearing last nights clothes, now crumpled and ridiculously wrinkly. As she inhaled the scents of breakfast and Stiles' detergent, watching the two girls makes breakfast, she briefly wished she could wake up to that every morning.

"So, when did you guys get here?"

"Just a few minutes ago." Now that she thought about it, she vaguely remembered jolting awake to the sound of a door slamming.

Scott leaned on the counter, looking around his best friend to talk to her. "Stiles was worried something was going on."

"Oh he _should_ have been worried," she retorted. "We talked about you guys all night long."

Stiles turned pink. "Seriously?"

Malia snorted. "Not all night."

He looked like he wanted to know more, but he was silenced but the plate of food Kira slid in front of him. Her timing was perfect, and Lydia doubted it was a coincidence, especially when she caught a hint of a smirk. "Do you guys have practice?"

Kira answered. "Already did." Now that Lydia took a second look, she realized the pajamas Kira was wearing weren't hers, and her hair was a little wet. She had slept through Kira leaving, and coming back, which was strange.

"Where's Liam?"

"Doing homework or something."

"What time is it?"

"A little after eleven." Stiles gave her a worried look. "You okay?"

"Yeah, just groggy. I haven't slept this late, or long in.. What feels like forever." Sliding off of the stool, she moved to make coffee. The Keurig was her savior in machine form, because nobody had time for that making an entire pot at once business. She offered some to the others, and they each lined up to pick something from the wide variety of coffee pods. At some point Kira had put on music, and as an upbeat song Lydia didn't recognize came on Scott suddenly spun her around, sending her red locks into a flurry. It caught her off guard, and a surprised laugh burst from her lips. In turn she attempted to spin Malia, which was rather difficult as she was taller and became very confused by the whole thing. This only caused Lydia to laugh harder. Soon they all were, spinning each other and dancing horribly around Lydia's kitchen. Bright sunlight shone off the pale stone, and even though it was nearing winter the kitchen was toasty from having the stove on. They kept on like that for some time, goofing off and laughing and forgetting about everything that had happened over the past few months. For a morning they weren't broken. They weren't werewolves or banshees or kitsunes or coyotes or detectives, they were just kids having fun on a Saturday morning. For a few hours Lydia let herself believe that maybe it was all finally over. Sure, Scott was still a werewolf. She was still a Banshee. Malia still didn't know who her mother was and Kira was just finding out. But maybe it didn't have to hurt anymore. Maybe they could finish school without anyone else dying and she could go to college and never, even scream for someone again. Maybe they could all just live happy, semi-normal lives.

She was wrong.

**()**

***maniacal cackling* I really do love you guys.**


	5. Double, Double Toil and Trouble

**Hey haha wow weird it totally feels like it's been almost two months since I updated? That's not possible.**

**Needless to say I'm SORRY. Life got in the way. I suck. I'm sorry. Also I'm thinking every two weeks is a more realistic update schedule for me because I work five-six days a week. I LOVE YOU GUYS.**

**Although because this is a hella bad cliff hanger I will try to posties the next chapter within a week. ALSO the chapter title is a hint as to what my big bad will be for at least part of the story. It's pretty obvious (I think?). Anywhooo. Enjoy. Love you guys.**

**()**

The scream ripped Lydia from her fugue state, dragging her back to consciousness. It rang in her ears, shivers racking her body as her thin pajama shirt clung to her skin with the freezing rain water. Her cheeks were flushed, and while it wasn't even below forty degrees, the water seemed to sap her body heat. As she recovered her wits, the sounds of water dripping onto concrete replaced the echo in her ears. She looked around, wide brown eyes searching for what had brought her here, what had made her scream. Or rather, who. It was an old, run down warehouse, one of many apparently in Beacon Hills. If she even was in Beacon Hills. It was dark, but as it was storming that wasn't a good indication for the time. It was also painfully obvious she had walked quite far, her feet stinging with a million tiny cuts. Looking behind herself, she saw small smears of blood in the shape of her footprints. As she stepped forward she grimaced, but continued on. She had come here for a reason, someone had died, or would soon. But as she walked further into the building, it seemed as though no one was there but her.

Until with a sickening crunch, the body of a man with his head twisted in an unnatural way landed on the floor in front of her.

The sight of the body itself didn't scare her, she had seen too many a corpse for that, but it's sudden appearance did startle her. She didn't scream, but stumbled back, head snapping up to scan the support beams for the killer. Or at least, the messenger. The redhead was half expecting to be greeted by a pair of glowing eyes, framed by long, dirty blonde hair. But it was dark and she was, for the most part, human. If there had been anyone else up there, they were either long gone or hiding very well in the shadows. Then she heard it, that immediately recognizable rattling of bones, the low rumble of a deep growl. Hands shaking, partly from the cold and partly from her terror, she pulled out her phone and called the first person that came to mind.

A groggy voice answered. "Hello?"

"Parrish?"

The nightmares had become more diverse as of late, including images of flaming birds and large, ghostly dogs with yellowed fangs. Often the dogs were standing over bodies. Sometimes the bodies were unrecognizable, almost seeming to have no face at all. Other times, they were the bodies of people he cared about. His family, the Sheriff, once even Lydia. That particular night he had woken up confused for many reasons.

Suddenly awoken from yet another bout of fitful sleep, Jordan wasn't quite awake enough to look at the name on his phone before answering. There was only a few people he imagined it could be, anyway. If it was the Sheriff, it wasn't good. If it was Lydia or one of her friends, at this hour that probably wasn't good either. However, when he immediately recognized Lydia's voice, he held a small amount of hope that maybe she had just made a breakthrough in her research and just couldn't wait to share it. Despite that, he was immediately concerned at her tone.

"Lydia? What is it? Are you okay? What time is it?" He could hear her shaky breathing, and teeth chattering before she answered.

"I'm... I'm at some warehouse. There's a body."

The Deputy was out of bed and heading for the door before she even finished the sentence, snatching his shoes on the way out. He always had a clean pair of socks ready in his shoes, in case of emergencies like this. However, as soon as they were on, he returned for his gun which he had forgotten in his minor panic. "Lydia. Go outside and find a road sign. Or like, drop a pin on your maps thing and send it to me."

Her voice lowered to a whisper, and the sound of fear so evident in her voice sent a chill down his spine. "I think the killer is still here."

He froze, terror welling in his chest. "Get outside and hide. Now. Send me your location, and I'll call for backup, okay? Just hide." The okay she gave was barely audible, and he heard her hiss as she began to move. His stomach clenched, wondering if she was already hurt. As much as he hated to, he needed to get off the phone. "Lydia, I'll be there as soon as I can. You're going to be okay." He hung up, and a few seconds later he received a text. Swearing under his breath when he saw it was nearly twenty minutes away, and wished that for _fucks sake _he had driven the cruiser so he would have the siren. Thankfully he had a small police radio in his car, and called it in as soon as he got in. "This is Deputy Jordan Parrish, enroute to 14 crest way, civilian reported body on the scene. Perp may still be on scene, repeat perp may still be on scene, requesting back up." He was speeding away by the time the dispatcher had responded, informing him two units were enroute as well.

It was the longest fourteen minute drive of his life.

**()**

Once Parrish dropped the call, she went into maps and sent him the location. She was somewhat tech savvy, and had done it many times before. Lydia would have been surprised, and impressed, Parrish knew how to do it, if she hadn't been so worried about the sounds coming from above. Each rattle sent a spike of fear through her gut, each growl elevating her pulse. It was a sound that on occasion haunted her daydreams. A sound that made her stomach drop, each spike of fear weighing it down as it dragged along the ground as she moved gingerly towards the side door that was hanging off its hinges. If it really was a berserker, and not her imagination, there wasn't really any point in even trying to get away. But she was going to try anyway. Lydia Martin never gave up without a fight, and she wasn't going to start now.

Once she was outside, the pebbles of what had once been a parking lot dug into the cuts on her feet, causing her to cry out. The sound seemed to alert whatever was lurking inside, and was followed by a dull thud from the building, the rattling growing louder. She walked, determined to do as Parrish had said, towards a small shroud of trees near the road. "Come on, Deputy."

Pebbles were scattered as he shot into the parking lot, slamming on the breaks. He jumped out, his car dinging at him as he left the driver's side door open. Jordan's entire body was tense as he jogged around the building, gun pointed to the ground. "Lydia?!" He did a perimeter check, but part of him wanted to go back to the car. The area was eerily still, no signs of life. He wanted to go back and let one of the other officer's look. Let on of the other officer's find her body if he had been too late.

As he neared a patch of trees, a flash of red caught his eyes. Her brilliant hair was visible even in the impressive darkness. He froze. The red wasn't moving, which meant Lydia wasn't moving. Maybe she hadn't heard him call out. "Lydia?" His breath caught as there was still no response or movement. The different ways her body could be mangled flashed before his eyes. The different ways she could be gravely hurt, all because he had taken too long to get there. All it took was a soft moan to snap him out of his morbid reverie, and he rushed forward. He knelt beside her, eyes scanning the rest of the trees before he tucked his gun in the waist of his pants at his back. Despite the sound that had signaled to him she was still alive, Lydia remained entirely unconscious. He did his best to check her over without being too handsy, as touching her in any way while he looked so vulnerable felt wrong. She had a fairly deep gash on her right forearm, and her hair was matted at the back from the blood of a small cut. It was the head wound that worried him, especially since she still hadn't woken up. "Lydia.."

The sirens of two cruisers and an ambulance drew his attention away from the red head for only a moment, and he flagged them down. "Bring me a stretcher!" Two EMT's rushed over, accompanied by an officer. As much as he hated to, he stepped back to let them do their work and addressed the officer. "Clear the building. I'm going to ride with L- Martin to the hospital, contact her parents. Sheriff been informed yet?" She nodded.

Jordan ran to the ambulance just as they were loading her in, jumping up beside her. Without a second thought, he took her hand in both of his. "C'mon, Lyds. Wake up."

Her beautiful, big brown eyes shot open and she started screaming.

"Lydia, Lydia please it's Jordan, Deputy Parrish? You're okay." Her breathing was quick and panicked, but the screaming stopped. "What happened, Lydia? Who hurt you?"

Those terrified eyes found his. "I.. I don't remember.." They grew wider. "Berserkers. It was a Berserker."

Jordan glanced sideways at the EMT waiting for Lydia to calm down and Parrish to get out of the way so he could do his job. As much as he hated to, Jordan knew he had to delay Lydia's explanation until they were out of mixed company. "Well, whoever it was is gone now, okay? You're safe. It's just me and Robinson here, who would probably feel a lot better if he could check you over. Is that okay?" She gave a weak nod, and he moved awkwardly around the moving vehicle to give Robinson full access to his patient.

"Hey, Lydia right? As Deputy Parrish just represented, most everybody calls me Robinson, but you get to call me Jake. Sound good?" Lydia nodded again, but Jordan grimaced at the tone he used, a mixture of child-talk and flirting. "Alright, so you were having a little memory trouble there? And it looks like you got your head a good whack." Another nod. "Okay, can you look straight ahead please?" He whipped out a little flashlight, checking her pupils. She grimaced as the light flashed in her eyes. "Okay, okay. Can you tell me your full name and address?"

"Lydia Lorraine Martin. I live at, uh.." She hesitated, squinting at nothing in particular. Jordan's stomach clenched. "It's uh, 28th Prescott, sorry." A breathy chuckle escaped his lips. He had no idea if that was right, but she seemed sure enough.

"Alright Miss Martin, any idea how you got these cuts?" He was now examining the gash on her arm. "It looks like this one's going to need stitches, so we'll let the doctor take care of that."

"The only person who will be going anywhere near that with a needle will be a plastic surgeon, actually. And no."

Robinson laughed, loud, and Lydia flinched. "Well you seem to be doing alright Miss Martin. Odds are you have a concussion, they'll be able to tell you for sure after a CAT scan, but I doubt it's anything major."

"Thank you, Robinson." Jordan gave the EMT a pointed look, and he moved out of the way the best he could so the Deputy could be by Lydia.

"Lydia, what were you thinking going out there by yours-"

"I wasn't."

Jordan immediately felt like an idiot. He knew that most of the time Lydia didn't have any control over her Banshee instincts. "Do you remember how you got there at all?"

She shook her head, but looked down to her feet. "No, but I have a pretty good idea." He pursed his lips. A twenty minute drive was a long walk, especially in bare feet. "You should text Scott and Stiles. Did you say my name when you called it in?" He shook his head. "Okay, then they might not know it's me yet. Stiles listens in on his dad's scanner. If he was awake they're probably on their way. Just, let them know it was me. That I'm okay. And.. What I told you."

At first he wondered why she didn't do it herself, but then noticed just how violently her hands were shaking. "Robinson, where are the blankets?" He whipped around, ready to tear the EMT a new one for not doing his job, but he wasn't there. The back of the ambulance was empty except for Lydia and himself. Thinking that he had to have somehow climbed to the front, even though Jordan was sort of in the way, he peered through the opening. "Fuck."

"Parrish?"

He turned back, beginning to pull open drawers. "Okay, I know you're cold, and I'm going to find some blankets for you, but I need you to call Scott while I'm doing that."

"What's going on?" He pulled open a drawer full of gauze and medical wrap, and piled some into the crook of his arm. Thankfully the next drawer had blankets. "Parrish."

He turned back, tucking three blankets around her, except for her feet. "Lydia, call Scott."

"Not until you tell me what's going on."

He sighed, kneeling at the end of the stretcher, gently placing gauze over the cuts on her feet, then carefully wrapping them. "It appears that the ambulance is driving itself."

Lydia pulled out her phone.

**()**

The sounds of someone clambering very awkwardly through his bedroom window brought aroused Scott from his dreaming. Normally he would have leapt into a defensive position, but the sound was all too familiar.

"Dude, come on, someone found a body somewhere in the warehouse district."

"Someone?"

"Parrish didn't say who when he called it in, but it seems like whoever it was told him directly, so-"

"Lydia." Stiles looked somewhat crestfallen, and Scott gave him a pat on the shoulder as he moved to his dresser. "C'mon dude, she's not replacing you. Lydia has always wanted to call the cops first, and now we have someone to trust who isn't your dad."

"I know, and Parrish is awesome and everything, but what if she's hurt?"

"Then he'll take care of her."

"I know dude, but what if like, it's Kate or something? So far all we know about Parrish is that he makes for some pretty shitty kindling, we don't know if he could fend off a Berserker."

"Yeah but she's probably fine-"

"Dude, hurry up."

"It's not like the body is going anywhere anytime soon."

"Yeah but the killer might. Parrish said they might still be on scene."

"And Lydia's there?"

Stiles' tired eyes widened, and the two boys thundered down the stairs and out to his jeep.

They pulled in right behind the Sheriff, and he gave them an exhausted glare as they climbed out and ran over to him. He held up a hand as both of their mouths opened, ready with a flurry of questions. "Lydia is fine. They think she probably has a minor concussion, other than that all she had was a decent cut on her arm and her feet were pretty torn up. Parrish rode with her in the ambulance, they should be at the hospital soon." Stiles's nodded, opening his mouth again, but the Sheriff beat him to it. "No, we didn't find the killer. The victim was a sort of security guard. The people who own this building own a lot of others, and he comes out every night to check for vandalism or kids goofing off or whatever."

"Cause of death?"

"Won't know for sure until an autopsy, but my bet is the fact that his head is twisted around."

Stiles grimaced, Scott pursed his lips.

"Now why don't the two of you just go home and get some sleep before school. We can handle this."

"Dad-"

"Hey, Sheriff!" Deputy Jerome waved him over from the entrance to the building. "We found something!" He headed over, not even attempting to stop Stiles and Scott from following him.

"What is it?"

"We found something." She held out a small, rectangular object. "It's an old cassette player. We found it stuck to the side of one of the support beams. And listen." She walked over, placing it back where they had apparently found it, and pressed play. The sound that echoed around the building sent chills down their spines. "That sound mean anything to you?"

The Sheriff answered before Stiles could say anything stupid. "No, besides being unnecessarily creepy. Bag and tag it, we'll have the analysis look at it." She nodded, and the Sheriff turned back to the boys. "Now why would someone have that playing where a dead body was found?"

"It was probably for Lydia." They both looked at Stiles. "They probably knew she would find the body, and wanted her to think it was Kate. Or at least someone besides them. Where was Lydia?"

The Sheriff pointed to a side door. "Out that way by some trees. She was unconscious when Parrish found her."

"Right, so, when did Parrish get here?"

"A good few minutes before the two units who responded to his call."

"So, maybe they knew the response time, and were banking on a few extra minutes to be able to finish up and then grab the tape. But then Parrish shows up early, and they scurry off to whatever dank hole they came from, forgetting the tape."

"But finish what?" Scott looked confused. "If they were going to kill Lydia, why play that tape to make her think it was Kate?"

"Maybe they weren't going to kill her."

"This doesn't make any sense."

"Yeah, well Dad crazy people generally only make sense to crazy people."

The three of them turned to the sounds of sirens approaching, the lights of an ambulance flashing against the side of the building. The Sheriff gave an exasperated sigh, turning to head towards the front of the building. "Who in hell called another ambulance?"

A young Officer stepped forward, looking both guilty and confused. "I-I did sir. Well I called the first one, but they already came-"

"When did you call the ambulance?"

"When we arrived on scene, and saw that the Martin girl was injured."

"And when did it get here?"

Understanding dawned on his face. "Just.. Just a few minutes after I called it in."

Muttering expletives under his breath, the Sheriff pulled out his phone.

"What is it Dad?" The Sheriff ignored his son, calling someone and then launching off towards his cruiser when they didn't answer. "Dad! What does that mean?"

"If the officer didn't call for a bus until we got here, that means it took less than five minutes for it to get here." The boys turned to the Deputy who had been inside the warehouse. "It took Parrish fifteen minutes to get here, and us almost twenty. The ambulance that picked up your friend isn't one of ours."

**()**

**Please leave review! I really want all of your opinions/suggestions/constructive criticism. Also if anyone got my hint about what the big bad will be. Kisses! **


	6. Fire Burn and Cauldron Bubble

**HAHA SO I GOT NO SLEEP LAST NIGHT. Fuck sleep. No one needs that shizzle.**

**I felt really bad about not updating for so long and the entire chapter was alive and buzzing in my brain. There are some Marrish teasers.. But don't get too excited. The slow burn continues.**

**AnywhoOoOo I hope you enjoy and it isn't too crazy, more notes to come at the bottom 3**

**()**

"Lydia?"

"Scott, something's wrong. The EMTs disappeared, the ambulance is driving itself. Did the EMTs show up anywhere?"

"No, the ambulance that picked you guys up was a fake."

Scott's sensitive hearing picked up Jordan's voice in the background. "That's impossible, I recognized one of the EMT's. His name was Jake Robinson."

Stiles immediately ran over to the ambulance, just as they were about to leave. "Hey! Either of you named Robinson?"

"Nah little Stilinski, Robinson's on vacation. Has been for a week."

He returned to Scott, taking the phone. "Lydia, Robinson isn't even in town. Whatever took you, made you think you were seeing him. You might not even be in an ambulance right now."

"It looks like an ambulance."

"Yeah well apparently fake Robinson looked like real Robinson, so."

"Stiles?"

"We'll find you Lydia, okay? Just tell Parrish if he lets anything happen to you I'll kick his ass."

The Deputy chimed in once again. "Noted!"

As soon as the call ended the boys were off in Stiles' jeep, Scott hanging his head out of the window to try and catch a scent. Stiles glanced to his friend, the scene comical, but he couldn't bring himself to crack a smile. "Deaton have any ideas on what this is?"

"It's two in the morning, he hasn't answered my text yet."

"You'd think the guy would have a siren as his text alert."

"Let him get some sleep, dude. He's a _vet_."

"Yeah, but-"

"_Stiles. _We can handle it. We'll find them."

"Right, sorry. It's just.. It's Lydia."

"I know."

**()**

"Scott will find us."

"Lydia."

"Stiles probably has a tracker on my phone."

"Lydia."

"Not that I could blame him, I don't exactly have the greatest track record."

"Lyds." The use of a nickname jolted her out of her pointless rambling, her brown eyes flickering over his face. "Uh, sorry, that was.. Unprofessional."

"Parrish, you help us fight supernatural bad guys. We're stuck in a self-driving ambulance. I think a nickname is the least of our problems."

He didn't have a clue why, but her tone held a bitter edge, which somehow made him feel guilty. "How are your feet?"

"Fine, a little tingly."

Frowning, he tucked the blankets tighter around her feet, looking up just in time to catch her giving him a small smile. Which he elected to ignore, as there were more pressing matters at hand. "Once we get out of.. Whatever it is we're in, we are getting you to a hospital. You could have frostbite, or.." His green eyes zoned in on her hands, which had stopped shaking. "Lydia, how do you feel?"

"I'm, uhm, I'm okay. Cold."

He grabbed her hand. "Jesus. I'm an _idiot_. Years of military experience and I can't even recognize hypothermia in a teenage girl who walked through the rain in her pajamas for two hours."

"I didn't want to worry you."

"You _knew_?"

"_I walked through the rain in my pajamas for two hours. _My breathing is shallow. My head is a little foggy_._" She met his disapproving gaze. "Oh, don't give me that look. We were on the way to the hospital, I would have been fine if we hadn't been.. Kidnapped by a ghost ambulance."

"Yeah, well, now we don't know where we're going, you apparently have hypothermia, and this ambulance doesn't seem to have heat on." He stood, pulling back her blankets.

"What.. What are you.."

"Your hypothermia is mild. We're going to keep it that way. Here." First he took off his jacket, handing it to her. "Put this on and scoot forward." He knew there was no way for the both of them to fit side by side on the cot, so he climbed on behind her. Trying desperately not to think about it as she sat back between his legs, he pulled her tight against his chest.

"Are you okay?"

"Of course, why?"

"Well.. Like you said, you didn't notice.. My symptoms. You usually notice those things."

"I.. I guess I was distracted."

"By whatever boogie monster attacked me?"

He rested his chin atop her head, tired of craning his neck back to avoid touching her any more than he had to. "You were hurt. My immediate reaction was to assess your injuries, make sure you were okay. Ironically, that meant I didn't notice your symptoms."

"Don't feel bad. It's just because you care a lot."

"Too much."

"I'm not sure that's actually a thing. Caring too much."

"Tell that to my commanding officer. He said it made me soft."

"Well he's a dick." Jordan chuckled. "I'm serious. You're definitely not soft, caring doesn't make you weak. Look at Scott."

He hummed in agreement. The Deputy counted Scott among some of the strongest people he knew. Then again, the entire group of teens were making their way onto that list one by one. Knowing it would be good to keep Lydia talking, he grabbed at a subject change. One that didn't involve his past. "You've made some pretty good decisions as far as friends are concerned."

"I didn't always."

"Oh?"

"Yep. I was your typical high school mean girl. All I cared about was popularity and dating the best player on the lacrosse team."

Jordan had a hard time believing that, but he wasn't entirely surprised. Lydia gave off an extraordinary amount of confidence, even when she didn't actually have any. "What changed?"

"Allison." Her voice was growing stronger, and he felt himself relax the slightest amount. "It wasn't just her, but she kick started everything. She was beautiful and popular and she didn't have to be mean to get people to respect her. She made me realize I didn't have to be a bitch to go places in life. I didn't have to be hard and uncaring.." Realizing she was rambling, Lydia pursed her lips.

"What is it?"

"You're just keeping me talking so I don't doze off or start freaking out because we're in a self-driving ambulance with no clear way to stop it."

Against his better judgement, Jordan let his fingers ghost over her hand. "It's not exactly boring conversation."

The redhead turned as best she could to look at her companion and current personal space heater. It was always difficult to figure out exactly what the Deputy was thinking, especially in moments like this. She felt vulnerable around him, in the worst and best kind of way. It troubled her, especially since she couldn't figure out what it meant, and Lydia hated not knowing things. As she was about to respond to his vague comment, the ambulance was shaken by what sounded like a large object landing on the roof. Jordan tensed around her, but he didn't have time to react before there was a loud popping sound, followed by a metallic shriek as the vehicle slowly came to a stop. As it did there was the sound of metal tearing, and suddenly the ambulance went dark.

That is, until the back door was wrenched open, dull light filtering in. Their own gazes were met by piercing blue eyes, thankfully set in a familiar face. "Well? You guys coming?"

**()**

"How did you find us before Stiles and Scott?"

Malia tapped her foot impatiently, checking her phone once again. "Stiles isn't the only one who listens to the police scanner. I just didn't waste time going to Scott's house. They take too long to get things done themselves."

"They're out looking for us-"

"I know. I texted them after I called Kira. Whatever took you guys is apparently invisible or has some mind juju or both, so I figured we might as well call the cavalry."

From her place curled against Jordan's side, now shivering slightly, Lydia raised an eyebrow at the reference. Jordan, however, was still focused on his small charge. "Hey, Malia?"

"Yeah?"

"Does your.. Coyote, stuff, come with the higher core temperature that canines have?"

"Kind of, I think? Stiles says I'm freakishly warm."

He nodded towards Lydia. "Lend a hand? Or, a side, really."

Hopping over, Malia pressed herself against Lydia's not already occupied side. It was so that Kira pulled up, catching an unamused Lydia squished in a Malia-Jordan sandwich. Much to the trio's surprise, Derek stepped out of the passenger side of the car, wearing his big-brother worried face. "Lydia? What happened?"

Jordan stepped forward, pulling Lydia with him. "She has mild hypothermia, her feet are covered in cuts and she has a gash on her arm. She needs to get to the hospital now."

Derek nodded, taking Lydia from him and leading her to Kira's car. Jordan was unwilling to let her out of his sight, but knew he had no other choice. They needed to figure out who or what they were up against, and he was needed on the ground, not at Lydia's bedside. However, that didn't stop him from grabbing Derek's arm before they got too far. "Keep me updated." The man nodded, giving Jordan a look that made him think the werewolf knew something he didn't.

As Kira and Derek drove off, Jordan turned to see Malia giving him an intense look. "What?"

"Everyone thinks I don't see things. Like how some stuff I say makes people uncomfortable, or the way Stiles looks at Lydia. But I do. And I get it. I know I should be worried because he used to have feelings for her and he'll always love her, but I'm not. Because I also see it's different than the way he looks at me, or the way Scott looks at Kira. I'm not ignorant."

He wasn't entirely sure why she was telling him these things, opening up to her, but he wasn't one to shut her down. "No one thinks you're ignorant. But no one expects you to learn everything overnight. You've been through a lot."

"I don't get the way you look at anyone though. You're really hard to read."

"But?"

"But you care about Lydia. You care about all of us, but it's different with her, isn't it?"

Her question made him pause. It was something he purposely didn't think about. "She introduced me to all of this, in a way, and she's been trying to help me figure out what I am. I'd say she's my friend, but.. It's not really appropriate. She's just a kid."

"I think we both know that's not true."

Before the awkward conversation Jordan never wanted to have could continue, Stiles and Scott pulled up. They both jumped out immediately as the jeep came to a screeching hault, demanding in unison where Lydia was.

"Derek and Kira are taking her to the hospital. She has symptoms of hypothermia, her feet are cut up from walking to the warehouse and she has a gash on her arm from whatever attacked her. Any idea what that was, by the way?"

Stiles tossed him a small, rectangular object. "Well, it wasn't a Berserker. But someone wanted to make her think it was."

Jordan pressed play, a chill traveling up his spine at the sound. It was something he would have been okay with never hearing again. "It worked, she was terrified. How would anyone even get this? Who would go through all the trouble of to get a recording of a Berserker, a fake ambulance and some sort of hudu vision magic crap to kidnap Lydia?"

"Who wouldn't?" The group gave Stiles a confused look. "I mean come on, of all the supernaturals to be drawn to Beacon Hills, we've only met one other Banshee, and she was half out of her mind. Lydia is fully functional, and her abilities seem to be becoming.. More than just finding dead bodies. Compared to what's out there, we probably know basically nothing about the extent of the supernatural community or the value of a Banshee as powerful as Lydia, or what kind of.. Things could be after her."

They all went quiet, obviously unsettled by Stiles' little rant. It was obvious he had a point though, it seemed like they were constantly discovering that the supernatural world was more than anyone had originally thought. More than even Deaton knew about, or was letting on. Jordan didn't like the thought of more unknown bad guys coming after Lydia, or any of them. He had made an unconscious decision to protect their little pack, even if he didn't entirely feel like he was a part of it. Scott turned to him, obviously not comfortable with the Deputy's silence. "What did you see in the ambulance?"

"It looked like any other ambulance I'd been in. It all seemed completely real. Robinson seemed completely real." He poured over their interactions with the fake EMT, and he remembered something. "I don't remember him ever actually touching her. I mean, they had to have gotten her onto the stretcher somehow, but I didn't see it."

"Okay, okay." Stiles began pacing, then started towards the ambulance. "It's just visual. Just.. Visual…" He ran his hand over the side of the vehicle, staring hard at the metal. "Parrish, come here."

The Deputy did as instructed. "What is it?"

"I want you to look really, really hard. Tell yourself what you're seeing is a trick. It won't be easy, but if you concentrate hard enough it should work."

Jordan gave Stiles a somewhat doubtful look, but turned his gaze to the side of the ambulance. He always prided himself on having an open mind, but this felt a little beyond that. Trying to think that what he was seeing wasn't actually what he was seeing was just confusing, if not a little ridiculous. But after everything else he'd seen it really didn't sound all that crazy. He took a few deep breaths, his eyes flickering over the writing that identified the vehicle. _It's not real. It's a trick. It's not real, it's not real.. _His vision blurred for a moment, but once his eyes refocused he staggered back a step. It was still an ambulance, but the metal was rusted and the paint had begun to peel in places. "Well that's.. So it's an ambulance. Just one that's not in use, obviously."

"It means that whatever this is, has limits. They had to use a face you already knew, they had to use an actual ambulance… Did you touch anything in the ambulance?"

"Uh, yeah. I had to get blankets and some gauze for Lydia, but that's all I could find."

"Exactly, things that are easy enough to get that would give the appearance of an ambulance if anyone glanced around."

"So they were thorough, prepared. This had to have taken weeks of planning. So why did the fake Robinson disappear? I never would have realized anything was wrong, we wouldn't have contacted you guys.."

"You weren't supposed to be there. They didn't plan for you. Lydia must have met Robinson before too, and it worked on you because you also knew him. You got there before they could make a clean getaway, and they left this behind. The ambulance was a distraction, it gave them more time to get away with Lydia before anyone could realize what was going on. Someone being with her was a wild card they didn't plan for."

"But they will next time."

"Next time?" They turned at the sound of Malia's voice, as apparently both she and Scott had joined them.

Stiles gave a solemn nod. "Whoever did this didn't go through all the trouble to pull this off just to give up after one failed attempt at abducting her."

Scott pulled out his phone. "I'm calling Derek." They waited anxiously, all relieved when he answered. "Derek, are you guys at the hospital yet?" The other spoke for a moment, and Jordan's stomach tightened when Scott and Malia exchanged wide eyed looks. "We're on our way. Start tracking."

When he hung up, they all stood there, quiet. Stiles was obviously too afraid to ask, so Jordan forced the words from his mouth. "What happened?"

Scott swallowed. "Something jumped into the road, and they crashed. Lydia's gone."

**()**

Lydia slowly regained some consciousness. She could tell she was warm, and in a bed or a cot of some sort. _The hospital. _Vaguely she remembered being in the car with Kira and Derek, and then she remembered crashing. _Can't be. _Pushing it off as a nightmare, seeing as she had plenty of those, she tried to drift off back to sleep.

"She's waking up." The voice sounded familiar, and she figured it was a nurse she had met before.

"Give her more of the sedative." Two nurses? Sedative? Why were they giving her a sedative for hypothermia and a few cuts? It didn't feel right. Despite their weight, she forced her eyes open. It took her only a moment to realize she was far from being in a hospital. The room was small, decorated in earthy tones and very warm. A moment later she heard the sound of wood crackling, and as she was able to lift her head she spotted a fireplace across the small room.

"Good morning, Lydia." The first voice spoke again, and her eyes found it's source. The woman looked familiar, but Lydia couldn't place her.

"Morning? I've.. Been out for hours?"

The woman chuckled. It wasn't an unpleasant sound, necessarily, but it gave Lydia a sick feeling in her stomach. "Oh sweetheart, you've been out for three days."

**()**

They had searched all night. None of the wolves (or Malia) could catch a scent. They had called the Sheriff right away, and after a night of no results the department was organizing a grid search with civilian volunteers. The Sheriff had ordered a very grumpy group of teenagers home around 8 o'clock, to be supervised by Deputy Parrish. He cut them some slack, letting them all bunk up in the McCall living room instead of forcing them to their separate residencies. Kira was sprawled across the couch, Scott lying on the floor next to it, Malia curled awkwardly in an armchair. Stiles, however, was pacing the kitchen, mumbling to himself about things they were missing, and everything that needed to be done. At first Jordan had tried to talk him into sleeping, but now he just sat at the dining room table, watching and listening.

"It has to be some kind of magic. Deaton said it's not Druid magic, but it has to be something. Witches, shamans, witchdoctors. It's the only.. Logical explanation." Stiles had already come to this conclusion several times, then continued to talk himself out of it. However, it seemed that he was finally reaching the point of his inevitable exhaustion as he swayed and gripped the counter top.

Jordan immediately went to his side. "Woah, hey, come on." He lead the boy to the living room, letting him slump against the chair the were-coyote currently occupied. "Sleep, Stiles. We'll find her." The Sheriff's son nodded before drifting off, continuing to mutter in his sleep.

**()**

Lydia awoke once again, gaining her faculties quicker this time. She was almost scared to know how long she had been out this time around, but there was no one in the room to tell her. Immediately she leapt from the bed, darting towards the closest door. However, she was quickly and painfully brought to the floor, tripping due to a rope tied around her ankle. Her fall had created a loud thud, and the door swung open, allowing Lydia to see that it led to another, larger room with a table and what looked like a small, old kitchen. It was the familiar woman, who was called Minerva, and she held an amused expression.

"You're recovering quickly. That's good. The tea should have helped you heal." They had forced Lydia to drink copious amounts of some herbal tea when she had been conscious, which apparently contained a sedative and some supernatural healing agent as the gash on her arm was now just a puffy pink scar. "We want you to be well, Lydia. We have no reason to hurt you."

"So is that why you kidnapped me and ran my friends off the road?"

Minerva chuckled, a sound Lydia had grown to hate. "Your friends are fine, and desperate times call for desperate measures. You have so many people protecting you, when really all they're doing is smothering you."

"And I suppose tying me to a bedpost is your way of nurturing my free will?"

Her amused expression began to falter. "I have only so much patience for your attitude. You will appreciate what we have done and will do for you. We want to help you harness your powers."

"Well maybe I don't want your help."

Minerva stepped forward, kneeling down to be eye level with Lydia. "Oh, but you need it. Don't you wish you could have somehow prevented your precious Allison from being pointlessly murdered?" Lydia's lips pursed into a thin line, and she was silenced by the woman's harsh comment. "That's what I thought. We have things to teach you, Lydia. Anyone with psychic abilities can harness and practice a certain amount of magic. And we'll show you how."

"Magic?"

"Yes, haven't you figured it out yet? You're supposed to be brilliant, I thought you would have at least had a few ideas." When Lydia didn't present any, she stood. "My sister and I are witches, Darling."

**()**

After four days with no sign of her, they were beginning to fear the worst. No one dared say it out loud, because none of them could imagine losing her. Losing another friend. Scott was overwhelmed with guilt, angry that he hadn't been able to save Lydia. Derek was no where to be found. Jordan spent everyday participating in the grid search. Stiles was at his wits end, and had snapped at Malia, who had fled to Kira's house. The two girls were sprawled in silence on her bed, Malia's head resting in Kira's lap. Kira stroked her friend's hair, trying to be as soothing as possible, but she had never been good at the whole comforting thing.

"He didn't mean it."

"I know."

"He's just stressed out."

"I know."

"Lydia is one of his best friends."

"I know. They have a special connection, two sides of the same coin or however that goes." Malia let out a heavy sigh. "Are you my coin?" Kira looked down, her black hair falling around her face and she smiled despite everything that was weighing on her heart with Lydia still missing. "I mean, I feel comfortable around you. Just being me. And I like that you sort of silently understand me instead of explaining to me how I'm wrong."

"Do you want me to be your coin?"

"I don't think you really choose who your coin is. Like, I think Allison was Scott's coin. And maybe Lydia's too."

"I think Allison was kind of everyone's coin."

Malia nodded in agreement. "Sometimes, when they talk about her, I feel like I'm intruding. I mean, I don't feel like they're leaving me out or whatever, but like.."

"I get it. I mean, I knew her, but barely. She was amazing, though. But yeah, I feel like you and I will sort of always be a little different because we didn't know her like they did, and the three of them share her loss."

"Maybe that's what makes you my coin."

"Maybe."

**()**

Lydia sat on the bed later that day, glaring at the tray of food in front of her. She was starving, and she knew she should eat, but didn't trust that there wouldn't be more sedatives. Deciding that sedatives were better than dying of starvation, she gave in to her hunger. After an hour of not feeling any side effects, she decided it had been drug free.

Minerva's sister, Shai, entered the little bedroom. "You ate, good. Now we can talk." Shai took the tray of food, setting it on the bedside table. "I imagine you have some questions."

While Lydia would rather hit the woman over the head with the tray, she knew it was pointless. She had attempted to untie the rope binding her to the bed, but it was impossible, and she assumed it had been spelled. Since all signs were pointing to her having to wait for a rescue, she figured she might as well learn as much about her new enemy as she could. "Why haven't I ever heard of witches? I know a Druid, and he's never mentioned witches before."

"Yes, Deaton. He's fairly well known and respected in the magical community." Shai pulled over a chair, sitting a few feet away from the bed. The witch was obviously not oblivious to Lydia's ill will. "I'm not surprised he didn't tell you about us. As my sister told you, anyone with psychic abilities can practice magic, to a point. You'd never be a full blown witch, but I imagine, being the smart girl you are, you would have sought out answers." She wasn't wrong, and Lydia's face told her as much. "That is exactly why the Druid didn't tell you about us. As far as the magical community goes, witches are.. They're sort of like the weird cousin who went through a goth phase so the rest of the family stopped talking to them." Lydia narrowed her eyes, not following. "A few centuries back a coven of witches broke a few little rules and ever since then everyone's been all grumpy. But we're not all bad. A lot of witches make remedies for illnesses, or help people on their way. I'm not saying we can cure cancer, but we don't go around hexing families as often as some people might want you to think."

"No, you just kidnap teenage girls."

"Listen, sweetie, it was for your own good. A girl like you doesn't need to get caught up with druids and shapeshifters. That bunch has been nothing but drama for centuries. And what with Berserkers and La Loba getting thrown into the mix.. We got you out just in time."

"You know about Kate?"

"Oh, is that the blonde she-devils name? Yes, we know about her. My sister and I haven't lived in Mexico for many years, but we keep in contact with our old coven."

"So you're not a member of a coven?"

"No. We'll always be welcome back to our family coven, but it's not uncommon for witches to leave and start their own."

"But you haven't."

She grinned. "We want to start a different kind of coven. We've been searching for people like you. Not just Banshees, but with special abilities tied to magic. We plan to create a coven like no one has ever seen before."

"And I'm your first recruit?"

"You'd be surprised by how hard it is so find someone with active psychic abilities who hasn't gone completely off the rails. Take your friend Meredith for example. We don't want an unstable coven, we want a strong one."

"So you've obviously been watching me, or Beacon Hills. My abilities manifested over a year ago, why now?"

"Because you're in more danger than you've ever been, and we needed to get you out while we still could. We didn't want to hurt any of your friends, we have no reason to. But then that little deputy and the coyote got in the way, so we didn't have a choice."

"You went through a lot of trouble when you could have just talked to me."

"No, we couldn't have. You never would have left your friends, this was the only way to keep you safe."

"You can't keep me tied up forever."

Shai stood, picking up the tray. It seemed as though she was going to leave without any further comment, but as she reached the door the woman gave pause. "We won't have to, Lydia. You'll see our way sooner or later."

**()**

Five days. Lydia had been missing for five days and there was still no sign of her, not a trace. No one could pick up her scent, or find a trail by the crash. Jordan was going out of his mind. Every day he was calling hospitals within a fifty mile radius, and on the third day he had started calling morgues. He'd had to compartmentalize as he gave her description every time, pushing down the panic that rose in his throat as he waited for an answer. He'd been able to remain relatively calm, until their only lead had been a dead end. Some anonymous tip about two women and a red head that had led to an empty car, and once again neither Derek, Scott or Malia could find a scent. Jordan and several other deputies had scoured the area, but found nothing. Feeling completely useless, he decided to go back.

It was about a 45 minute drive out, right at the edge of the fifty mile radius he had been checking in. However, once he reached the road where the car had been found, he went in the opposite direction. It was a generally unpopulated area, so he slowed by the few residences he came across, looking for any unusual activity. After he had been driving for nearly another thirty minutes, he decided to turn around and pulled down a dead end drive. Just as he was about to back up, a glimmer of light separate from the fading sun caught his attention. He drove further down, and came across a small cabin. At first it looked abandoned, and he hadn't a clue where the light had come from, until he saw a flash of movement and a streak of red as three figures took off into the woods.

**()**

Lydia had spent her fifth day of captivity basically having a history lesson. It would be a lie to say she wasn't intrigued, the girl absorbed information like a metaphorical sponge. More So, actually. What they told her was fascinating, even if they left some details out. Like, what rules the ancient coven had broken that started a feud between witches and the rest of the magical community, and why it continued even if the original coven wasn't around. Lydia, however, gathered that the rules were still being broken to some extent, as it was the only explanation they would stay in exile from their magical cousins.

There were apparently four main magical communities. Druids, those with psychic abilities, shifters, and witches. Supposedly, they originated with four sisters. The eldest, Rayna, was born with an affinity for nature, and soon discovered she could draw power from the element. The second, Shai, discovered at a young age she was able to predict the deaths of those in their village, speak to the dead, and move objects with her mind. The third, Malia, could transform into various predatory animals at will. However, the fourth sister, Lea, showed no signs of any special abilities. Her entire life she felt like an outcast, constantly living in the shadow of her three elder sisters. Shai, however, was always kind to her youngest sister. The two would spend hours trying different things to see if Lea had any dormant powers. They found nothing, until one day while hiking through the woods Shai fell down a ravine. By the time Lea was able to reach her sister, the young woman was near death. In her moment of desperation Lea was able to summon power to heal her sister and subsequently save her life.

However it was discovered that, since she had no control over her abilities, they came with terrible side effects. Upon reaching their village, it was discovered that several villagers had fallen grievously ill. A witch's magic draws on pure energy, and since Lea didn't know how to do so safely, she hadn't been able to control it. Her two other sisters scolded her, saying her abilities were an abomination. When Shai did not defend her, Lea became enraged. She swore that the descendants of her sister's would be plagued: For Rayna, if any Druid used their magic for dark purposes, the darkness would consume them. Malia's descendents would only be able to transform into one animal, and would be plagued by the full moon. For Shai she gave some mercy, declaring only that her powers would be split in three, never to inhabit the same soul again. The magic it took to cast the curse drained all of the villagers of their life, leaving the three sisters to fend for themselves in the wilderness until they could find a new home.

"And that's not what drove a wedge between witches and the rest of the magical community?"

"Well after a while it was regarded mostly as a myth, and people were able to recognize that not all witches were as emotionally unstable as Lea was painted to be."

"Until the witch community broke some big rule."

"It was hardly a very important rule. But that's for another day. Want to take a shower?"

Lydia nodded eagerly. She'd been allowed to take one the first night she was awake, but she still didn't feel totally clean. First, though, she had a question that had been brought to light by a certain name in the tall tale of the original sisters. "Do you know anything about the Desert Wolf?"

Shai seemed shocked by the question, which told Lydia the answer was yes, but before she could get any information Minerva burst into the room. "We have to go. We've been found."

**()**

Jordan raced through the woods, his gun drawn but pointed safely towards the ground. "Lydia!" After five days of searching, and basically finding her on sheer dumb luck, there was no way he was letting her get away. "Lydia!"

The response was muffled, but loud enough for him to hear. "Jordan?!" At the sound of her voice he found himself running faster than he knew he capable of going, and soon he saw another streak of her red hair. "Jordan!" His heart lurched; she sounded completely terrified.

"Lydia!" He could see her, approximately fifty yards ahead of him, with two other women. She looked over her shoulder, and as soon as they made eye contact she stopped dead in her track. This seemed to wildly confused her captors, who didn't immediately notice. "Lydia, get down!" The red head dropped to the ground and he fired three shots as one of the women turned back to Lydia, missing on purpose. It seemed enough to startle her, as her eyes landed on him they grew wide with fear. She said something to the other woman and the two took off. While Jordan would have liked nothing more than to run them down, his immediate focus was Lydia. When he reached her he safely holstered his weapon, kneeling down. "Lydia, are you hurt? Did they do anything to you?"

"I.. I don't.. Where am I?"

"We're in the woods about an hour outside beacon hills. Lydia do you know who those women were?"

"What women?" Her eyes were wide, full of fear and confusion.

"The ones who were holding you captive?"

"Captive? I.. How did we get here? What happened?"

Realization painted itself on Jordan's face. "You don't remember?" She shook her head, her entire body beginning to shake. Without a second thought he drew her to him, easily lifting her in his arms. "Hey, it's okay. We're going to get you out of here. You're safe."

**()**

**I hope you enjoyed! I'm already working on the next chapter, but I'm going on vacation in a few days so it will probably actually take me at least a week this time.**

**Also, the ever lovely Notomys was able to guess that the big bad is, in fact, witches! However, still keep an eye out for La Loba..**


	7. Hudu, Voodoo, and Hypnotism

**HEELLLLOOOO and Happy Holidays my beautiful darlings. Sorry for the once again late update, but I do hope you enjoy the chapter (there's some interesting stuff in here if I do say so myself). We will also be seeing an old face, one of my favorites, so I hope you like that little Christmas present.**

**()**

Jordan hadn't left the hospital.

The irony of the situation wasn't lost on him; he had once scolded Lydia for not leaving the station to get sleep. He supposed their stubborn nature was one thing they had in common, even if he was staying for a different reason. The thought of leaving her side, after losing her once already, wasn't something he could even consider. It was unprofessional, and unneeded as she had deputies stationed in the hallway around the clock. He didn't care.

It had become painfully clear in the days of her disappearance that Lydia Martin mattered to him far, far more than a seventeen year old girl should. It was tearing him up, and he knew he needed to figure things out before he did something stupid. Or before he hurt Lydia.

"Are you my guard tonight?" His green eyes flickered to her face, he hadn't realized she was awake. Seeing her conscious and aware pinched his heart, and an unusual amount of emotion flickered across his face. It was obvious to see Lydia hadn't missed it, as he sat up straighter and gave him a curious look. "You okay Deputy?"

Biting the inside of his lip, he pushed off from the doorway, crossing the space between them in a few slow strides. Then he did something he knew he'd regret later, and situated himself next to her on the hospital bed. She didn't protest, even as he gently looped an arm around her shoulders and tucked her against his side. "No, Lydia, I'm not okay. I was starting to think we might have lost you. I've lost.. A lot of people." Taking a deep breath, he tried to relax, absent mindedly running his fingers through her hair. "You're my friend, Lydia. Maybe my only friend. I want you to know that."

She relaxed against him. "I do know. But you're wrong. Scott, Stiles, Kira. Even Malia. They care about you. And they'll always be there for you, if you need them. If you let them."

He felt the conversation drifting towards him, and sought to change the subject. "Do you remember what we were talking about before Malia saved us from the ghost ambulance?"

"It was actually a spelled ambulance, apparently, but yeah." When he didn't answer, she took that as a cue to continue. "Sometimes I feel like I'm forgetting her voice. So then I just remember her laugh, because there's no way I'll ever forget that." Jordan hummed, something she had begun to realize he did when words weren't necessary. The feel of his fingertips against her scalp as he ran his hands through her hair was slowly putting her to sleep, but she had a feeling that would make the situation very real and very awkward. He seemed to sense her drowsiness, however, and commented on her confession.

"You always talk about her when something's wrong."

The weighted observation gave her pause. "Allison was my best friend. The only best friend I'd ever had. Sure, you could count Jackson. He was everything to me, but it wasn't healthy. Ally was.. My anchor. She is my anchor." She sighed, subconsciously leaning into his hand. "Thinking about her when stuff like this happens keeps me sane. Which doesn't make any sense, because thinking about her, what happened to her, should drive me nuts. But.."

"But knowing someone like her existed and cared about you gives you hope."

Lydia leaned away from him, turning to give the Deputy a curious look. "I'm not the only one who brings her up. You do when you're trying to distract me."

He couldn't help but smile down at her. "She's a healthy distraction." They stayed like that for a moment, eyes fixed on each other. And he knew it would be so, so easy to ruin everything.

**()**

Lydia almost flinched when Jordan cleared his throat, jerking her back to reality. Slowly, as the warm feeling in her chest faded, he slid off the hospital bed. She suddenly felt exposed, and imagined from the look on his face she wasn't the only one. They had tiptoed the line, for just a moment, the line they could never cross. The line she wasn't sure she wanted to, because when it came to Parrish she was never entirely sure what she was feeling.

"Stiles tells me you have your birthday in about a week."

Her eyes widened. Lydia Martin had forgotten her own eighteenth birthday. A birthday she had been planning since she was sixteen. A party that was already planned, scheduled, and paid for. A soft groan escaped her lips, and she fell back against her pillows. "That is one party I should be looking forward to but I am totally not."

"I'll see you there." His voice was soft, his tone causing her to look at him just in time to catch that brief flash of emotion she had seen earlier. She couldn't pinpoint what it was, and wasn't sure she wanted to. Before she could decide, however, he was gone.

**()**

A guilt ridden Derek had been standing just outside the hospital, staring through the double doors with his usual stoic expression. For the past five days he had wracked his brain for some explanation as to how someone had taken Lydia without a sound and without leaving a single trace behind. Tracking her had been impossible, like she had disappeared into thin air. After one night of searching with the rest of the pack he had broken off, running in every direction in search for some sign of her. On the third day he had called Braeden, hoping she might give some insight, but there hadn't been an answer. On the fourth day he had gone to Deaton, demanding answers.

Lydia was one of the two people who had the least ability to defend herself against the supernatural, and yet it seemed like she was always found in the middle of it. It was maddening, especially since it seemed like there was nothing to do but wait around for some sign of her. Which wasn't at all Derek's style. Needless to say the trip to the vet's office had only resulted in vague implications that Deaton did have an idea of what was going on but for his usual incomprehensible reasons he was going to keep it to himself. It seemed obvious that magic was involved, but the only magic Derek had ever heard of was Druid magic, and Deaton insisted this wasn't. Once again Derek wished his mother was still around.

"Are you going to go in? Or just stand out here brooding all night?"

Derek spun around, his stoic expression broken by shock at the familiar voice. He stood, wide eyed and unbelieving of the sight before him. "Cora?"

His little sister gave him a sly grin before stepping forward to embrace him. "Sorry it took me so long to get here. I got a call a couple of weeks ago, from some girl named Braeden?"

Derek enveloped her, breathing in her familiar familial scent. "She shouldn't have called you."

Cora pulled back, smacking him on the arm. "You died, asshole. _You_ should have called me." Her disapproving gaze softened at his guilty expression, and her eyes shifted to the hospital doors. "Who's in there this time?"

"Lydia."

Cora quirked an eyebrow. She and Lydia hadn't exactly been the best of friends, but she had liked the girl's spirit. "She okay?"

"Minor injuries. The worst seems to be her memory loss, which the doctor's can't find a medical explanation for and are claiming she's suppressing trauma."

"But?"

"I think it was caused by magic. It's the only explanation for everything that's happened." He gave her a quick recap of the past several days, her expression growing my disbelieving by the second.

"You couldn't find any trace of her? No scent?"

"None."

"Hm." Cora squinted at nothing in particular before starting off towards the doors at a rapid pace.

"Cora, what are you-"

"Well we won't find out anything standing out here."

"Lydia does know anything, just leave her alone."

"She does know something, she just can't remember. Sitting around and babying her won't help her remember."

"And how are you going to help?" They were through the doors now, earning an irritated glance from the nurse at the front desk as Cora strolled on by with Derek on her heels.

"I have a few tricks up my sleeve. I didn't just sit around in South America." She came to an abrupt halt, pivoting on her heels to face Derek. "Speaking of which, I'm going to need you to pick me up a few things." She dug in jacket pocket, pulling out a receipt. Glancing around, she strode over to the reception desk. With an obviously fake smile, she asked the nurse for a pen, who begrudgingly complied. Smoothing out the crumpled paper, she scribbled a few things down before thrusting it at her brother. "There's a small shop a few blocks from Deaton's. You'll probably miss it the first time. Just give the list to the nice lady at the counter, and she'll give you what I need." Before he could protest, Cora was off again, leaving her brother to grumble as he left to do her bidding.

Cora road the elevator to the pediatric floor, wandering the halls until she caught Lydia's scent. She avoided looking into any of the rooms until she found the one with 'Lydia L. Martin' on the placard outside. About to enter, Cora stopped short as another scent caught her attention. It was one she couldn't identify, but it caused her metaphorical hackles to rise. Leaning against the wall just outside, she listened in on the conversation taking place inside.

"... my best friend. The only best friend I'd ever had. Sure, you could count Jackson. He was everything to me, but it wasn't healthy. Ally was.. My anchor. She is my anchor... Thinking about her when stuff like this happens keeps me sane. Which doesn't make any sense, because thinking about her, what happened to her, should drive me nuts. But.."

"But knowing someone like her existed and cared about you gives you hope." Cora narrowed her eyes at the unfamiliar male voice.

"I'm not the only one who brings her up. You do when you're trying to distract me."

"She's a healthy distraction."

Cora rolled her eyes, practically able to smell the sexual tension, and tuned out of the rest of the conversation. A minute later she ducked around the corner, avoiding the footsteps that were emerging from Lydia's room. She watched the young man with careful speculation as he walked down the hall, his scent as he passed her giving her a chill. The feeling was one she could only describe as death. At least he was hot.

Once what's his face was out of sight, Cora slipped into the room. She was greeted by a bedridden Lydia, wearing an expression similar to Derek's. It was one Cora was starting to thoroughly enjoy.

"Cora? What are you-? Why are you here?"

"Well it's nice to see you too Lydia." The she-wolf settled on the end of the bed. "The girlfriend Derek neglected to tell me about informed me about the death he also neglected to tell me about, so I decided it was time for a little visit. And it seems like I was just in time." Cora wouldn't say they were friends, but she wasn't pleased about how often Lydia got herself into tight situations. Besides, she was Derek's pack. And Derek's pack was her pack.

"Sorry, I just.. Last I knew you were in South America. Does Derek know you're back?"

"Yeah, I met him in the lobby." The unimportant fib rolled off reflexively. She was sure they were aware of Derek's lurking habit, but decided it was her sisterly duty to make him seem as normal as possible. "He's picking up a few things we'll need, but he'll be back in a bit."

"Things we'll need for..?"

"We are going to unlock your memories."

Lydia looked doubtful. Her skepticism, despite everything she had seen and become, was another thing Cora liked about her. "Are you some sort of South American witch doctor now?"

The dark haired girl actually cracked a smile at that. "Something along those lines." She pulled her legs up, tucking her feet beneath her. "What's the last thing you remember?"

"Leaving for the hospital with Derek and Kira. I fell asleep right away, but I remember waking up just before the crash, I think. There.. There was someone standing in the road, and Kira swerved, hitting the guard rail.."

"Good. Good. They missed a memory then, that's good."

"They?"

"The women who took you, and erased your memories. That one memory you have, of whoever it was standing in the road, that's our key hole. Our way into the little locked up part of your memory."

Lydia huffed, obviously unconvinced. "Are you a hypnotist?"

"No." Another irritated noise from the redhead. "Listen, Lydia, I know you have this thing where you need to know everything, like Stiles, but you're just going to have to trust me on this. I can help you remember."

"Why do you care?"

Cora bit her lip. She knew it was hard for anyone, even bitten wolves, to understand true pack mentality. "Because Derek cares. Because whoever took you could be a danger to everyone, and is obviously a danger to you. Why does it matter why I care? I'm here to help. You need my help."

Lydia stared her down, and it was easy to see the gears whirring behind those big brown eyes. "Fine."

They sat in awkward silence for a good few minutes, both now avoiding each other's gaze. Cora had never really connected well with other people, much less other girls, and with Lydia it was no different. The young wolf even had trouble reconnecting with her brother, even though he was the last living member of her family (creepy Uncle Peter never really counted). However, that didn't mean that Cora didn't like people, or Lydia in particular. It was just that her normal didn't seem to sync with everyone elses. "So.. Who's the hunk?"

Lydia narrowed her eyes. "Do you mean Deputy Parrish?"

"No idea, whoever was with you before I came in. I saw him leaving."

"Yeah, Deputy Parrish. He's the one who found me."

"Uh-huh."

"What?"

"You two seemed pretty friendly."

"You were listening?"

Cora chuckled. "Not for long, but long enough."

Lydia looked as though she was about to protest to whatever it was Cora was implying, when two figures, one ganglier than the other, practically fell into the room. Scott, ever the golden retriever, was immediately at her side, scanning her for injuries. Stiles on the other hand, held back. Two sets of brown eyes met, his conveying relief at her safety, Lydia's silently reassuring him she really was okay. Finally he stepped forward. "Don't you _ever_ do that _ever_ again."

"Sorry, next time I'll try a little harder not to get kidnapped by two lunatic sister witches." They all snapped to attention, Lydia included. "Did I just.. Say witches?"

"Yes, you did." Cora squinted at her, as if reading a difficult passage in a chemistry textbook. "Do you remember anything?"

"I.. No."

"Clever." The boys looked at Cora, realization suddenly hitting them.

"When did _you_ get here?"

"Observant Stiles. And before you." They continued staring at her, waiting for further explanation to her comment. "My guess is these.. Sister witches, who apparently kidnapped Lydia, were caught off guard. They didn't have time to properly wipe her memory. So the only time she can remember them, is when she isn't trying to."

"But I'm always trying to. I lost five days."

"Exactly. The good news is, it'll be easier to get around." As if on cue, Derek entered the room, carrying a brown paper bag. "Took you long enough."

He rolled his eyes, handing her the bag. "Everything you need?"

Cora rifled through it, nodding. "All I need is a lighter, and.." She glanced up, scanning the ceiling. "One of you to _carefully_ dismantle that fire alarm." Stiles pulled a lighter from one of his many hidden hoodie pockets, holding it out. When Lydia gave him a quizzical look, he just shrugged. Scott, grabbing a chair, carefully took the batteries out of the small smoke alarm near the center of the room. "Okay, now I need everyone to sit down and stay quiet. You weren't entirely wrong, Lydia, this is a little like hypnosis. Just.. With a little assistance." Cora stood as the boys sat, sliding the hospital table over to the bed and dumping the bags contents on it. She placed a candle, which was a weird shade of orange, in the center of the table, and a bundle of sage off to the right. There were three little baggies of herbs, which she left alone until she found a small plastic bowl. She went into the bathroom, turning on the water before returning. "I'll need to let the water get hot. Now, Lydia, I'm going to need you to try and let this work. It'll work whether you're open to it or not, but it will be a lot easier if you are." With Stiles' lighter, she lit the candle and brought the sage to a steady smoke, which she then handed to her brother. "Spread it around the room." At Lydia's questioning gaze, she explained; "The sage is sort of.. Like a shield. It prevents other magic from interfering."

It was Derek's turn to look puzzled. "You practice magic?"

"Very, very basic Druid magic. They draw their power from natural elements, like mountain ash and sage. Anyone can harness a certain amount." Lydia felt a nauseating sense of deja vu, but elected not to mention it. Cora went back to the bathroom, emerging with a bowl full of steaming hot water. She added a pinch of two of the herbs, and proceeded to stir it with her finger. Lydia imagined it had to be painfully hot, but it didn't seem to bother Cora in the slightest. When she presented the bowl to Lydia, the redhead saw that the herbs had disappeared entirely, and the water was now a dark green. "You don't have to drink all of it, a few sips should be fine."

As Lydia complied, Cora opened up the third bag. She took one small leaf out, and proceeded to crush it between her thumb and index finger until a fine powder covered them both. When Lydia put the bowl down, Cora leaned forward, smearing the powder across Lydia's forehead. She was anything but pleased. "Was that really necessary?"

The wolf ignored her, instead smearing another line down her nose. "Okay, now, deep breaths. Relax your mind."

"Have you ever done this before?"

"_Lydia._"

Sighing, she started standard yoga breaths, closing her eyes and resisting the urge to let out a satirical hum. She felt Cora's thumb press against the center of her forehead, followed shortly by the sound of her voice. "_Retire la barrera._" At first there was nothing, the same empty space. Except now the wall blocking her memory felt like a real, physical thing, and if she pressed against it just enough..

A gasp escaped her lips, causing a startled jolt throughout the room. Her eyes flew open as the memories came flooding back, everything from the accident until Parrish found her. The cabin, the sisters, the story of the four original supernatural beings. It was almost too much at once, and her eyes began to water. But Lydia, being Lydia, managed to gather her wits rather quickly. "I remember."

**()**

After Lydia had told them everything she could remember, Stiles called the Sheriff, who arrived shortly with a sketch artist. Lydia was disappointed when Parrish wasn't with them, but didn't inquire as to why. _You can survive without your guardian angel, Lydia. _So she did. She pushed the Deputy from her mind, and did her best to describe Minerva and Shai to the sketch artist. Just as they were finishing up, everyone's attention was drawn to a commotion coming from the hallway.

"Miss Martin already has too many visitors, I'm afraid you can't go in."

"Malia, maybe we should just wa-"

"We've already waited all day! I'm going in."

"Malia, don't-"

The were-coyote appeared in the room, followed swiftly by a disgruntled nurse and a bashful Kira. "Young lady, I told you- Sheriff?"

Sheriff Stilinski grimaced, taking his time to give each of the teens a frustrated look. "It's okay, Marcia."

"But Sheriff, she's only supposed to have two visitors at a time, with the exception of family, and they-" The woman glared at all of them, and everyone but Cora hung their head. "Are not her immediate family."

The Sheriff looked like he was about to pull the law enforcement card, when Cora stood. "It's okay. Derek and I can go." She sauntered from the room, not bothering to see if Derek followed. Which he did, giving Lydia a small nod. This still left four, not including the Sheriff and sketch artist, but it seemed to appease the nurse as she let out a huff before leaving them.

The sketch artist, an officer named Danielle, turned back to Lydia after observing the scene with cool amusement. "So these look pretty accurate? Any changes?"

Lydia stared for a moment, then shook her head. "No, that looks pretty good." Finally letting a yawn she had been holding back break over her, she stretched her arms over her head.

Her apparent exhaustion seemed to worry Stiles. "Maybe we should go.."

Malia wasn't having any of that. "What? No! Kira and I just got here." Stiles couldn't help but smile at Malia's apparent concern for Lydia, but was still going to argue with her when the Sheriff held up his hand.

"You girls can stay. You two, go home."

Stiles nodded, while Malia looked entirely too smug. The former shuffled over to Lydia, leaning down to give her a tight hug. "Remember. No more getting kidnapped."

"No promises."

Stiles pulled back, glaring, but Lydia just grinned. Scott followed suit, giving her a softer hug, and the boys unwillingly departed. "So their names were Minerva and Shai, correct? Any guess on ages?"

"Maybe late twenties, early thirties. Shai definitely looked to be the younger. I don't think they were from around here, the cabin definitely looked like a temporary residence. No pictures, no decor. The furniture fit though."

"Yeah, the cabin was a rental. They gave different names and paid in cash, but the owner said they fit the description you gave. Now that you remember, I'd like you to come down to the station and.. Give an official statement." The Sheriff's face said he knew that some things would have to be left out, like whatever hudu they told her. "Alright, well we'll leave you to rest Lydia." He turned to Malia and Kira. "Don't stay too long."

As soon as he was gone the two girls sat on the end of the bed, Malia actually laying down with her head on Lydia's knees and her legs draping off the end. At first the three shared a comfortable silence, until Kira asked the only thing she needed to know; "Are you okay?"

Lydia didn't have an immediate answer. In one respect, she was. They didn't really hurt her, or torment her. Being leashed to the bed had been more annoying than anything else. But at the same time, she wasn't. She was sick of always being targeted because of what she was. Supernatural, but without any of the perks like super strength to defend herself with. So no, in that sense she wasn't okay. "Mostly. I'm just.. Kind of sick of being kidnapped."

"It is getting pretty annoying." Kira swatted at Malia's arm, but Lydia wasn't offended. "I mean, uh.. I just meant that I wish it would stop happening, too."

"You're fine. I get it. It's getting old." She smiled, but the smile was small and tired. Kira could tell Lydia was exhausted, and while she wanted to stay with her friend she knew it would be better if they took their leave.

"Come on, Malia."

"What?"

"We're leaving."

"We just _got here_."

"Lydia needs to sleep."

"_Fine._" Malia launched off the bed, but before storming off she paused, leaning down to give Lydia and awkward hug. "Kira and I will get your school work for you."

Kira nodded confirmation, and made arrangements to drop it off at the red head's house after school the next day. Which was, much to Lydia's distress, a Monday, and it would mean missing another day of school. Not that she was overly anxious to return at the moment, what with how utterly exhausted she was. However, she still had a GPA to maintain. After the girl's left Lydia struggled to stay awake, as she knew her parents would be returning soon and that they'd probably want to talk to her. But after all of the druid hudu with Cora she was even more exhausted, and soon found herself drifting into a deep sleep against limp hospital pillows.

**()**

When Lydia finally returned to school the following Tuesday, she was met with whispers and disdainful looks. After her first disappearance, the masses had given her pity. Poor, popular Lydia'd had a psychotic break and went running through the woods for a few days. Did you hear her parents fight a lot? Oh that _must_ have been why. Poor thing. This time, however, it was much different. She's just doing it for attention now. Oh, it must be so hard being so pretty and having everything handed to you. Poor Lydia.

They had no idea.

But Lydia was better than them. She knew it, and they would come to know it too as she walked through the hallways with her head held high, not sparing any of their gossipy selves a single glance. She didn't feel the need to explain. To plead with them that she had been kidnapped, that the last thing she wanted was attention, because they didn't matter. The only ones who mattered were waiting in Math class, where she slid into the empty seat next to Malia. Stiles immediately switched to the seat behind her, leaning up to whisper in her ear.

"How are you doing?"

"I'm _fine_, Stiles." The irritation in her voice seemed to sooth him, oddly enough, and he leaned back in his seat. Glancing back, she received warm looks from both Scott and Kira, and returned them with small smiles. The rest of the day carried on in a similar fashion. Lydia was escorted from class to class, the group treading on eggshells around her except for Stiles, who asked if she was okay just about every chance he got. By the time last period rolled around, she was more than ready for it, staring at the clock while robotically taking notes.

"Lydia?"

Her eyes flickered to Kira. "Hm?"

"Do you have a ride home?" Irritated, as Kira had managed to not be annoying until now, Lydia ignored her. "_Lydia."_

_"_Is there something you'd like to share with the class, Miss Yukimira?" Miss Heather, the eleventh grade English teacher, walked out in front of her desk.

"No, Miss Heather. Sorry." The woman was strict, but not mean, so she merely gave the girls a nod and continued on with the class. Thankfully it seemed to be enough to deter Kira from pressing further. Not, however, from scurrying after her when the bell rang and they were dismissed. "Lydia, come on, let me drive you home."

"What makes you think I didn't drive myself to school?"

"Scott saw you come in with your mom."

"How do you know I'm not leaving with her?"

"Because you can't, unless you're going to wait until she's done with her after school tutoring group."

Lydia shut her locker pointedly, but didn't quite slam it. "Well maybe I am." However, as she stalked away, she headed in the direction of the school's main entrance and not her mothers classroom.

"_Lydia._"

Suddenly, an unwelcome surprise in the form of Malia appeared, blocking Lydia's path. The redhead stopped, and crossed her arms. "Need something, Malia?"

"Someone is taking you home if I have to use some of the bungee cords in coach's office to strap you to Scott's motorcycle."

"I thought the point of this was to avoid me getting kidnapped. Again." Malia rolled her eyes, grabbing the red head by the wrist and dragging her towards the parking lot. "I was _already going this way._"

Lydia ended up riding home with Kira, opting out of Malias bungee cord and motorcycle plan. However, she drew the line at being walked to her front door. Mostly because of the fact that when they got there her dads car was still in the driveway, whereas Lydia had been expecting him to be on his way back to whatever business trip he had been on. Upon entering the house, Lydia moved cautiously, as if expecting something to jump out at her. "Dad?"

"In here, sweetie." Lydia followed his voice to his office, a room that ironically was seldom used. She leaned casually against the doorway, trying to hide how put off she was by his lasting presence.

"I didn't think you'd be home."

"Oh, yeah, I ran some errands earlier but I told your mother Id be home before you got off from school."

"Ah."

"Ah? Care to elaborate?"

"Nothing. It just figures you'd only be here because you promised mom."

"Now, that's not what I meant."

"Really? So if mom hadn't made you promise..?"

"She didn't make me promise, Lydia. I meant that I told her I'd be _home _when you got home so that way she didn't have to cancel her tutoring group. I'd still be here, in town, either way."

"Why?"

"You were kidnapped, Lydia. I'm here to make sure that doesn't happen again."

"Yeah, well, don't get your hopes up." On that note she stalked away, not wanting to hear anymore about how her dad suddenly gave a crap.

**()**

**Ah yes, leave it to me to end on a happy note. You're welcome.**

**R&R if you could you precious angel babies, I want all of your feedback!**


End file.
